


One of those 3 times they didn't and 1 time they did things...

by FalseProphet (Batmanthegroomer)



Series: Practically Canon [2]
Category: Lupin III
Genre: Anal, Divorce, F/M, Frotting, Hurt/Comfort, Large Penis, Lubricant, M/M, PWP, Sexting, bottom lupin, butt plug, cross-dressing, fancy parties, fancy porn, first time with another man, flirty/dirty talk, handjobs, implied Lupin/Jigen, loopzoop, mentions of lupin/jigen lupin/goemon lupin/fujiko, repressed homosexuality, sad zenigata
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-20 23:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20683499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanthegroomer/pseuds/FalseProphet
Summary: Part One: Zenigata and Lupin have a sordid past--ask anyone who knows either of them and they'll confirm it. However not even their closest companions know about the party Lupin and Zenigata both attended one night in America. There may or may not be a reason why they've chosen to keep that evening to themselves... (Done)Part Two: Adjusting to life after the events of Help! I Want My Mummy! has been rough for Zenigata. It's a good thing he's got some new friends to help him through the strangest of his changes. He's not sure he'll ever really be able to call Lupin a 'friend' but after spending some quality time alone with the thief he's got a long list of other titles that may apply. (Done)Part Three: A new job, new colleagues, well new everything really and Zenigata finds himself wishing for something familiar. Lupin can't necessarily wind back time but he can offer the Chief Inspector something to take the edge off, something they've both been looking forward to... (Done)Part Four: Zenigata misses his first public 'date' with Lupin and when the thief shows up at the office he's able to see why. Zenigata's work load is outrageous. Lupin offers to help the hard working gentleman relax.





	1. Part One, Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first Part is set before Help! I Want My Mummy! but the subsequent parts are all set afterwards. 
> 
> These are all essentially smut. 
> 
> ENJOY

Zenigata had been welcoming a distraction for hours now but somehow this was not at all what he had in mind. The luxurious mansion—worth more money for the structure itself than he would ever make in his entire life, not to mention the additional four or five life times’ worth of furniture, décor and trinkets—was full of life and none of it made the inspector feel any less alone. Granted he was there as a security detail but not even small talk on the job was soothing the ache he’d been nursing with TUMS and Advil. He was clearly there as part of the ‘help’ and was treated as such by the swanky guests. No matter that he’d rented a tuxedo—one of the only times in his life he’d ever worn something so perfectly tailored—and done everything possible to make sure he would not be an eyesore amidst the elite. 

He set himself up near the bar and sipped as casually as possible on a whiskey. Sipping in the way one does when social anxiety creeps in: Is that how everyone else was holding their glass? Was he drinking too quickly? How long was it taking the other guests to finish their drinks? Were the men drinking slower or faster than the women? Would it be odd if he set his drink down for a second?

The man who’d hired him finally joined the party—an hour late for his own event—and the gathered aristocrats went as crazy as was expected of them. The American politician waved their applause down and delivered a short speech. Zenigata hadn’t moved up like the other bar patrons and so he missed most of it. He assumed it was some kind of phony thank you for the most recent election year—it had been an election year in America, right?—before indicating they get back to the revelry.

It was easy to spy the piece Zenigata was there to watch: the man’s wife (or escort) wore an ostentatious necklace. It was shaped like spider webs all the way down her amply exposed bosom—one of those drooping necklines Zenigata could never figure out how they got to stay up—and wet with diamonds. It almost made a blinding effect when it caught the light just right. It had been a custom piece by some very fancy American jeweler right before he’d very unexpectedly passed, making it his very last creation and thus double what it was worth in design and supply alone. Being in the USA on Lupin-related business Zenigata had come highly recommended when the politician had sought out guards.

And so Koichi Zenigata found himself dressed like a penguin, sipping on whiskey enough to be a little warm, enduring the nasally laughter of people who wiped their asses with dollar bills all to protect a necklace Lupin may or may not have any interest in. It was a good bet that the thief would be interested but Zenigata actually had no idea how world renown this jeweler was—it might honestly be an isolated to the USA type thing and that was hardly ever Lupin’s style. He preferred world-wide fencing opportunities and pigeon-holing himself into having to ship off the jewel in the same country he thefted it from was too restrictive for the criminal.

The Inspector worked up the nerve to set his glass down on the corner of the bar. He glanced at his watch and then out at the guests. If Lupin was going to be attending he would do so in plain view in some kind of crazy disguise, he was not the type to miss such an opportunity to flaunt himself. A heist like this he would likely also have at least one partner—Jigen or Fujiko most likely—to help pass off the original and replace it with a fake. Something that big couldn’t just go missing. The goal would be to snag it with as little notice as possible and likely within the first few hours of its debut. Zenigata set a timer on his watch for two hours.

There was a chuckle behind him followed by the giggling of two twins. Zenigata couldn’t help the small voice in his head which told him they were obviously laughing at him. He didn’t do well in situations like this where he was supposed to blend in and not make it obvious he was a cop. He wondered if he could have another drink and still be sharp enough to take out Lupin.

He focused his attention instead upon the guests, in particular those rubbing elbows with the politician’s wife, er escort, or whatever she was. He supposed that she was a wife when he thought it over for a moment or two. There was no way an American politician would be so openly flaunting his girlfriend at an event where there had to be at least a dozen paparazzi and no American politician would make it far in the game without a traditional marriage. The whole country was still far too wrapped up in its supposed Christian heritage. 

The hostess was currently engaging in what appeared to be girlish gossip with a gaggle of feminine guests. There were five in total—counting the wife—all with tall stemmed glasses and rosy cheeks. The air surrounding them was glittering like the air over the road on a hot day; their jewels and glittery gowns casting an incredibly unnatural shimmer to the air itself. 

In a moment that was very unlike himself, Zenigata had a flash of a memory from years ago. In place of the woman he was supposed to be watching he saw a dark-skinned girl, giggling to her friends while shooting him a flirtatious wink to the amusement of her friends. The image faded slightly into that same girl in a wedding dress, softly matured and doe-eyed. She had eyes only for Zenigata and he revered her in a way he couldn’t quite explain. The image slowly turned sour and the woman was crying, yelling at him and removing her ring, throwing it at his feet. 

Zenigata shook his head and quickly brought back reality. He checked his timer—three minutes had passed. It was going to be one hell of a long night.


	2. Part One, Chapter 2

Lupin at least felt like he looked particularly lovely even if he was feeling anything but. It was a rare day when he wasn’t with at least one of the gang and even rarer still when that extended into days and then weeks. It had been exactly three weeks, four days and six hours since he’d seen any of his companions. They all had lives outside of pulling heists of course but the absurdity of all three of them having commitments they couldn’t get out of in the same month was off the charts. Lupin distinctly remembered throwing a fit like a petulant child—complete with kicking and banging his fists on the floor—to absolutely no avail. He’d been promised three separate correspondences when the trio freed up and was then dumped to his own devices for the interim.

It was the absolute worst most painful kind of torture. He couldn’t even find a good partner to play cards with in any of the local bars! Jigen had insinuated he’d be wrapping up first so Lupin had coincidentally booked himself a flight and a long stay in America to wait for him. While seeing how quickly he could flip through the channels on the hotel TV he’d stumbled upon a news story about the death of a local jeweler. His last piece was going to be rather audaciously displayed during a party later in the week. It was certainly not Lupin’s usual style—for a number of reasons—but damnit if he wasn’t going nuts with itchy hands.

So he’d decided to go but not to steal the necklace in question. Nope. He was going to steal every other bit of jewelry and expensive wrist-wear instead. It would give him a bit of a challenge at the very least. He’d be working alone so space and storage would be a big consideration. He wouldn’t be able to replicate fakes and it would be a slow-burn type of evening where he’d have to make sure none of his victims started comparing notes. It was honestly too big a risk for the small score he’d likely make off with but he had nothing better to do and a string of far worse ideas behind him.

On the eve of the fancy party he’d made some last minute touches to his disguise. Instead of going for his usual bit—where in he picked a particular quality and amped it up to the max as a sort of character piece—he calmed things down. He opted for a much calmer, much more well-rounded persona for the evening which would be another test of his skills. He wouldn’t have his usual lines or schtick to fall back on and would have to play things close and down-to-earth: as down-to-earth as a lady with the amount of money he was claiming to have could be, of course.

His style was directly influenced by the most beautiful woman he knew and he had to admit the long, auburn wig did marvels for his eyes and pale complexion. He’d considered once or twice growing his hair out but always decided against it. Though he swung much more towards the masculine side of the scale he had moments when he wondered what the other end felt like and not just in the physical. Gender was a funny thing, especially in more modern years, and Lupin still wasn’t quite sure he’d ever pin his own gender pendulum down. He certainly enjoyed cross-dressing more than he figured a straight-laced, purely cis man might… and not just for the thrill of the heist or the deception either. Something about a tight-waisted dress and snug sheer leggings was comforting like hot coco in the winter.

He stiffened a little as another woman entered the bathroom but she didn’t seem to spare him a glance. He preened at his mascara for a second more before stepping back slightly to give himself one more once-over before rejoining the party. He’d found an apple red modified a line gown that was perfect, backless and with coiling ruffles down the right side after the breast bone. They were perfect for hollowing out and stuffing jewelry into; it would alter their motion a little but not enough to attract too much attention. He’s gone with rather plain red heels—sadly it was difficult to find fancy lady-style shoes in his size—and soft make-up, just enough wings to draw attention away from his rather sharp jawline. He topped the whole thing with a black pillbox hat worn to the left.

His eyes slid to the side slightly as the woman who’d walked in a second ago approached the sink. There was a slight pause during which they met eyes in the mirror and Lupin resisted the urge to turn and face the woman entirely. There was something in her look which clearly indicated she wanted to tell him something or at the very least she wanted him to know something. It was a secret look—the kind of look one only picked up on if they were the intended recipient. Lupin’s cheeks colored and he gave a soft nod before excusing himself.

He was always touched to share a moment with those in a minority—considering he was not often among them but a stead-fast ally—and wished he could say more, even when he wasn’t in drag for a heist. He recognized the look as one of shared knowledge and comfort, a sort of reassurance like the secret hand-shake of an exclusive club. Only unfortunately more often than not it was secret for the sake of safety and that was always part of the softly exchanged look. Lupin sincerely hoped the woman had a great evening and that none of the rich snobs did anything to dampen her smile.

The criminal strolled back out and towards the bar, keeping an eye on where the hostess was so that he could make sure to greet her multiple times—after all, it was only polite!


	3. Part One, Chapter 3

Zenigata had moved himself forcibly away from the bar. He was not often prone to bouts of drinking but given the circumstances and his current mood he could feel the urge creeping up on him. The last thing he needed was any kind of drunken shenanigans to weigh on his conscious. He tended to be a very affectionate drunk, prone to even more heightened emotional outbursts than was his normal. He could just imagine himself blubbering all over anyone who would listen about his marriage ending and his life falling apart around him.

At least his target was easy to find after he drifted off into his own thoughts. A quick glance around the room immediately yielded the powerful glare of light-on-diamonds and the politician’s wife was located. She’d moved away from her girlfriends and was now chatting with a single man. He was one of the younger guests, baby-faced and a little shy compared to the other men. 

‘New money or new to the game,’ Zenigata thought to himself as he watched the duo talk. ‘Lupin wouldn’t dare pose as someone so stiff and awkward at a gala like this. No, he’d want to flaunt his knowledge and expertise. This poor kid looks like he’s gonna have a coronary.’

Zenigata leaned up against the wall, chair-rail at his rump, and crossed his arms over his chest. He immediately felt self-conscious and dropped them, worried it made him stand out or seem angry or something. No-one else seemed to have their arms crossed, a few men did have hands stuffed into their pockets though and that seemed acceptable. Zenigata mirrored the stance to have something to do with his hands.

He continued to lazily watch the young man and the hostess. He supposed the boy could have been Goemon or Fujiko—they would both be able to play such a soft young man—but there was no sign of anyone nearby watching or moving in for the kill, so to speak. Jigen wouldn’t have shaved his beard for something so ridiculous, wouldn’t have been able to go this long without a smoke, and it wasn’t a mask thanks to a tell-tale crinkle near the boy’s eyes when he laughed. Zenigata knew more about masks and make-up than most Hollywood special effects artists thanks to Lupin.

The hostess placed a kind hand on the boy’s shoulder and they said their goodbyes. She was on the move then, playing her part well and attempting to greet every last guest in attendance even if only just for a second. These parties were mostly about making and keeping connections, the more people you knew the better of you’d be when things got sticky. Rich people collected names like they collected artifacts that didn’t belong to them—and for mostly the same reasons too.

Zenigata’s attention was piqued a little as the hostess was stopped by another woman. The brunette in the red dress was apparently in attendance alone which wasn’t odd in America so she didn’t immediately stand out as a threat. The hostess didn’t seem to know her, but was happy enough to greet and chat for a few moments. The conversation inevitably turned towards the necklace, both women were enamored with the piece, gestures and lowered gazes told Zenigata as much. There was some kind of joke passed between them and they laughed almost genuinely. 

Zenigata checked his watch—Lupin was running out of time and the hour was almost up. Sure he’d given the criminal another hour just in case but he knew Lupin was punctual. If he didn’t make his move soon he wasn’t going to. Lupin wouldn’t want to stay long in order to beat any traffic in leaving. He would want to stay long enough that people were comfortable with his presence, make his move quickly, and then linger just enough to enjoy the fruits of his endeavor before making off with his prize. Fancy party heists were like a dance with Lupin and Zenigata was quickly becoming a pro. The steps were different than a museum heist or something on-the-fly, like comparing a tango to a waltz.

Zenigata sighed heavily and nodded to a couple passing by. They walked arm-in-arm and seemed content and comfortable with one another’s presence. It made the inspector’s head swim. How long had it been since he’d felt that? Had he honestly ever felt that for his wife? In the letter she’d sent him with the divorce papers she’d claimed she never had but not for lack of desire to. She sobbed that she thought she knew Koichi but she’d been wrong from the beginning. She tried everything she could to get through to him but not even having their child seemed to break through whatever barrier Zenigata had up.

‘What barrier?’ Zenigata thought morosely to himself. He wanted to connect with people, he was a very affectionate person and he adored human connection. It wasn’t something he was able to indulge in often thanks to his line of work but it certainly wasn’t something he tried to avoid. People put up barriers when they didn’t want things, when they were trying to hold things in or keep things back. Zenigata couldn’t think of a single time when he hadn’t wanted to connect with his wife—er… well, at least emotionally. She did seem to have a healthier sexual appetite than the inspector. Maybe that’s what she meant.

Koichi glanced back up towards the hostess. She and the woman-in-red were wrapping up their conversation. The hostess thanked the woman-in-red for coming and then walked away to speak with other guests. Zenigata’s eyes lingered on the woman-in-red for a second and as she lifted her gaze they met eyes. The woman had deep brown eyes, lined in a way that made Zenigata ponder Asian heritage. She gave the inspector a coy smile once she noticed his gaze and then headed towards the bar.


	4. Part One, Chapter 4

Lupin threw back his head and laughed, full faith in his wig permitting him to do so in a relaxed and unrestrained manner. The gentleman he was talking—all right, flirting—with seemed to enjoy the view it offered him. Even though Lupin didn’t technically have a bosom he could feel the man’s eyes lingering near the prosthetics and padded bra. Unlike Lupin he wasn’t studying them for a hidden weapon, camera or microphone though. 

As Lupin lowered his head and leaned forward over the bar to place another refill, the man beside him got a little bolder. Whereas for the past hour only the man’s words had threatened to cross a line now he took a physical step towards it. He placed his hand not on Lupin’s knee—which, while aggressive would have almost been an expected escalation to their flirting—but on the top of Lupin’s thigh, fingertips quite dangerously close to exactly what they were intended to be close to. Lupin stiffened.

The thief made a small chuckle and tried to lean away, lifting his gripped thigh off the stool noticeably in an attempt to shake off the hand politely. There was no reason to cause a stir even if the jackass deserved to be whacked upside the head. He kept his eyes on the bar tender, trying to really get the point across that there was a boundary being breached without making for an awkward social interaction. He didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself and a man griping to his fellows about the woman in the red dress’s teasing would certainly do the opposite of that.

“You know,” the man purred thickly as he leaned forward, further into Lupin’s personal bubble, “I know where they keep the family jewels.”

Lupin almost rolled his eyes. The man squeezed Lupin’s thigh and the thief let out a little squeak. He took a breath and turned in preparation to let the man have it—but stopped short as he noticed something he had not expected. 

Turning to face his too-bold new friend Lupin saw none other than Zenigata Koichi. The inspector had crossed to the bar and zeroed in on the other man. He had a firm hand on the other gentleman’s shoulder and Lupin could tell from the creases in the fabric underneath that he was applying a fair amount of pressure.

“I think you’re making the lady uncomfortable,” Zenigata warned, “maybe you should go cool off?”

“We were just having a friendly chat,” the man said, even as he let his hand slip away from Lupin’s thigh.

“I think you crossed a line, pal,” Zenigata continued, his hand stayed in place.

The gentleman glanced up at Lupin who met his eyes with a blank expression. He wanted to remain out of the conversation but complacent in it—that way if the man went off to gripe to anyone it would be about the gorilla handed guard who’d shooed him off a potential lay. 

The man lifted his hands harmlessly and shrugged his shoulder. Zenigata pulled his hand away and the other gentleman stepped off his stool.

“All right,” he grumbled, turning away, “but I’ll be over by the pool table, sweetheart, if you want to continue our little chat.”

Lupin gave a polite wiggle of his fingers in farewell as the man walked away. The criminal then turned his attention to Zenigata. He found the inspector looking at him in that way which signaled he hadn’t quite figured out who it really was but he was on to something for sure. He might have thought Lupin was Fujiko—but then again maybe not. Lupin knew Zenigata knew his patterns and his own specific style and the inspector had probably already figured out that if Lupin were at the party he was alone. Fujiko was also half-way across the world in Russia, and Lupin wondered momentarily if she was having as much unwanted attention as always.

“Some people never learn,” Zenigata said quietly as he placed a quiet order with the barkeep.

“Oh, that might have been on me,” Lupin giggled, “but thank you all the same.”

“Nah, it’s never on you,” Zenigata said firmly, meeting Lupin’s eyes once more, “never touch somebody without their permission and all that. Doesn’t matter how interested they may seem.”

“Sage advice,” Lupin grinned.

“My mama taught me that, pounded it in like a reinforced steel beam, heh.”

Lupin watched as Zenigata took his drink, hovering near the stool but not moving to claim it and relax. The thief assumed Zenigata was there as hired security detail, the politician in question was of the American persuasion as was the deceased jeweler so there was no international element to the party. The inspector was clearly not there to have fun with old friends so he was clearly working and that only left hired help as an option. Lupin wasn’t sure, however, if he was there to watch over all the valuables or just the main event. 

“You can sit down, you know,” Lupin purred, nodding to the now vacant stool, “I think even cops deserve a good sit once in a while.”

“Eh? How’d you know—”

“Oh, I used to date an officer. You all have tells,” Lupin winked.

“I uh—I suppose I could, just for a minute. I don’t think my services are gonna be needed here after all,” Zenigata’s words were just a little clogged with melancholy as he lowered himself awkwardly onto the stool. It was as if he was manually telling his brain how to move each and every muscle in order to ‘sit’; or perhaps like he’d never used a stool before and was making sure he was doing it exactly like everyone else. Lupin knew the inspector was prone to rather severe social anxiety when he wasn’t distracted by, well, Lupin himself.

“You sound a little put out that you’re not needed,” Lupin giggled, “doesn’t that mean you get to enjoy yourself for a little while?”


	5. Part One, Chapter 5

Zenigata laughed and it was actually fairly close to genuine. He sipped his whiskey and shook his head, cupping both hands around the glass.

“Nah, I can’t relax at these kinds of things—not my style,” he offered, almost as if talking to his whiskey and not the woman at his side, “if nothing happens in the next, oh, fifteen minutes I’d say everything is gonna stay where it is.”

“Fifteen minutes?” The woman turned to glance at the large clock on the wall, “what’s so special about 10pm?”

“Oh it’s not about the time exactly, it’s about how long it’s been since the hostess arrived.”

“You sound so sure about this,” the woman lowered her voice to a whisper, a smirk on her face that Zenigata turned to appreciate. 

“Yeah I—” Zenigata paused as he met the woman’s eyes. There was that little bell in the back of his head again, a bell that he just couldn’t silence. He knew what it was trying to tell him but he was equal parts confused and convinced it was paranoia. Everything he had come to know about Lupin told him this was not the thief. She was a very attractive woman but a plain woman and Lupin tended to favor a particular attribute to the extreme, something to draw attention away from his deft hands. This woman had also only briefly spoken to the hostess, and only once, and there had been no contact made with the necklace and no-one else had joined their conversation so she wasn’t playing a distraction. Unless Lupin was up to something completely beyond Zenigata’s knowledge the inspector was sure this could not be him.

“I’ve been doin’ this a long time,” Zenigata settled, breaking eye contact.

“It shows,” the woman continued, leaning her elbow onto the bar and resting her cheek against her hand delicately. She never took her eyes of Zenigata and he could feel her watching him. He tilted his head to look at her and she flashed him a smile, holding out her hand.

“I’m Amelie,” she introduced. Her eyes drooped half-lidded in amusement as Zenigata jolted a little. He released his whiskey glass, ran his palm down the length of his pants and then gently moved to shake her hand. Awkwardly he remembered that this was not a business dealing and suddenly could not remember if men and women shook hands at formal events like this. The only thing that came to mind was greeting the Queen that one time four years ago. He leaned forward, turned Amelie’s hand and kissed near her knuckles chastely. 

Normally a woman giggling at something he’d done would go right to his bruised ego, but somehow not this time. As he pulled away and Amelie giggled he could tell she was more laughing with him than at him which was a rare thing indeed. Still that bell rang in tune with her laughter and Zenigata had to admit it sounded so much like Lupin somewhere deep down. Maybe he just wanted it to sound like Lupin—it would certainly give him something to do.

“Zenigata, er, ah, Koichi,” the inspector mumbled by way of returning the introduction. He watched as Amelie made a slight face of confusion.

“That’s… Japanese, correct?”

“Yeah, yes,” Zenigata nodded, eyes once more on his whiskey glass, “half-Japanese.”

“It’s wonderful,” Amelie comforted, “that would mean… Zenigata is your family name and you would be Koichi, yes?”

“Mmhmm,” Zenigata glanced sidelong at the woman. It had been so incredibly long since anyone had called him by his given name for any length of polite conversation. It was like an old, worn sweater—comforting but a bit odd to have on once more. 

“Does it mean anything?” Amelie pressed. 

“Uh—happiness,” Zenigata offered, turning to look at Amelie, “my mother picked it. What about Amelie?”

“It means work,” Amelie winked.

The inspector jolted slightly as the clock chimed 10pm on the dot. He glanced over his shoulder at it as if to confirm what he already knew, and a few seconds late his stop watch also altered him. He sighed and turned off the notification.

“So that’s that?” Amelie pressed, glancing down at his watch, “you’re sure nothing is going to happen after 10pm? Like a strange Cinderella story?”

“Oh well,” Zenigata turned and let his eyes scan the crowd and find the hostess, “I’m really only here to watch the piece the hostess is wearing,” the second the words left his mouth he regretted it. The bell in the back of his mind did too, slamming out a warning to the beat of a techno song he’d heard ages ago and could never quite forget. It was fast.

“Does that mean I can’t come to you if I need assistance?” Amelie purred, her words heavy and flirtatious. 

Zenigata turned to look at her, a bit surprised and red in the cheeks. Truthfully he had a number of women hit on him over the course of his life. He supposed if he was questioned he had to admit that he was not entirely bad looking and it was something he sometimes acknowledged. He was awkward in social situations but he’d been told it could be endearing. The problem was he didn’t know what he wanted when women hit on him—and none of his male friends over the course of his life could empathize. He was never the kind of guy to want a one night stand—he wanted connection whenever he went looking—and somehow most of the women who hit on him weren’t on the same wavelength. It was odd considering everything he’d been taught was true about women suggested they would be in fact more interested in a deeper connection and an actual relationship but it was still all another language to him entirely. Talking with men was so much easier and the thought caught Zenigata’s heart in skipping a beat.

He opened his mouth to respond to Amelie and his eyes fell on a small beauty mark at the junction of her left shoulder and neck.


	6. Part One, Chapter 6

“Oh,” Zenigata said quietly and his shoulders hunched a little.

Lupin wasn’t sure why but it felt a little like a gut punch. He tilted his head and frowned. The inspector was chewing on the inside of his lip and seemed to be wrestling with himself internally. Lupin couldn’t imagine what had just happened to signal such a stunning change in attitude. 

“I wonder,” Zenigata said quietly and Lupin almost had to lean forward to hear him, “if Lupin wasn’t after the necklace on the hostess, why bother at all?”

Lupin felt his heart pound up from his chest into his throat. Zenigata slowly turned to look at him and he realized the inspector was figuring things out. Lupin decided to play along a little longer, not sure exactly what it was about Zengiata’s sudden somberness which called to him. If he was putting two-and-two together where was the zest? Where was the excitement? Surely he brought a gun and a pair of handcuffs…

“Lupin as in Lupin the third?” Amelie suggested playfully, raising her eyebrows. Lupin’s heart pounded near his larynx as Zenigata merely nodded, not even making an affirming sound. The inspector’s eyes were on Lupin’s for another second before they were back down at a mostly empty glass of whiskey.

“Why are you so sure he’s not?”

“He would’ve taken it by now,” Zenigata jerked a thumb towards the clock, “at least, the Lupin I know would have. It’s too stuffy in here for him to stick around long so he would have wanted to get just comfortable enough, steal the piece, enjoy his own skills for a minute or two and then book it. I don’t think it’s something he could pull of on his own, either and…” Zenigata squeezed the glass slightly between his palms, “he’s not with anyone tonight.”

“Maybe he’s got something else planned,” Lupin said quietly, now feeling strange and almost sick. What game was Pops playing? By his tone of voice and his posture he had very clearly identified Lupin and seen through his disguise… so why hadn’t he acted on it? It wasn’t like Zenigata to play coy or shy away from making a scene—in fact he was practically known for it when Lupin was involved. How many fancy galas had Zenigata crashed to throw handcuffs at the criminal and now he was being shy? 

It didn’t sit well with Lupin at all and he studied the inspector as silence lingered between them. He looked more tired than usual and—if Lupin’s count was correct—that was drink number four and they had all been straight whiskey. Four in just over two hours was a lot for Zenigata while on the job. He moved like his tuxedo was weighing him down, as if years had suddenly all caught up to him at once. Lupin’s eyes wandered to Zenigata’s hands and something clicked.

Zenigata was not wearing his wedding band.

“This is small fry to Lupin the Third,” Zenigata said more confidently than anything he’d muttered for the past few minutes, “he’s playing some kinda game and I’m…” the inspector sighed heavily.

Lupin raised his eyebrows as Zengiata suddenly slammed back the rest of his whiskey in one gulp. The inspector moved to his feet and turned to leave. Unsure why he shouldn’t just accept the gift, Lupin had to make things hard. He stepped off his own stool, reached out and grabbed Zenigata’s upper arm to prevent him from walking away.

“Inspector—”

“Just… I’m not in the mood tonight, all right?” Zenigata turned to glance at Lupin over his shoulder. He reached up and pried away Lupins’ fingers and the thief could only stare. “If you’ll excuse me, ma’am, I have a job to do.”

Lupin had been turned down before—Fujiko, strange men and women—tons of times in more sexually charged situations. He’d even been told to leave once after both parties were naked! This—however—this made something inside him not close properly and he didn’t like it. It made his head swim with threads of thoughts and he couldn’t follow them all if he wanted to but damnit he was going to try.

What the hell was the game here? Zenigata knew it was Lupin and he was just walking away! Was he really going to ignore their unspoken arrangement to mope in the corner? He wouldn’t possibly turn a blind eye to theft even if it wasn’t of the object he’d been hired to protect. Was he challenging Lupin? Was he waiting for some big show?!

He’d never seen the older man so depressed and down before. Sure he’d been mopey or sluggish on the run once or twice but that was to be expected when your quarry was Lupin the Third. The criminal had run the inspector ragged on purpose numerous times but it was nothing like this. Zenigata seemed to be struggling to tread water but the fight was gone. His body was on its last breath of self preservation and there was no help on the horizon. 

Lupin felt both indignant and guilty as he watched Zenigata vanish into the crowd. He wanted to grab and shake the old man until they were both dizzy. He wanted to curl up and have the earth swallow him for getting to Pops like this. He didn’t want to break the guy, that had never been his goal, in fact he thrived on knowing Zenigata was always just a step behind him. The idea of losing his most worthy opponent made Lupin deliriously outraged and simultaneously sickeningly guilty. 

Lupin balled his hand into a fist and barely resisted the urge to stomp in frustration. ‘Fine,’ he thought, ‘if that’s how he’s gonna be I’ll just keep going.’ Turning towards the restroom Lupin ducked at the last second and strolled into a roped off hallway like he belonged there.


	7. Part One, Chapter 7

Zenigata checked in with the hostess. She was a little more than tipsy and waved him off like he was bothering her. He assured himself in their brief talk that she was still wearing the original piece and was not offended to leave her presence. None of the other guests seemed riled up or particularly rowdy and the inspector was beginning to wonder if maybe he could just leave. Would the politician who hired him even notice?

“—down the hallway near the bathroom. Dunno who she was with but she was booking it, gonna give it good from the looks of her!” 

Zenigata turned as a drunk man and his friend stumbled by. He reached out and grabbed the arm of the man who’d spoken. Slowly, sloppily, eye contact was made.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Wasn’t—wasn’t talking to you, man,” the drunkard said faintly belligerently.

“I’m with Interpol, I’m a cop,” Zenigata pressed, narrowing his eyes, “was the woman in a red dress?”

“Uh, yeah man,” the man nodded, looking now a little nervous. Zenigata assumed he had drugs on him somewhere. He didn’t really care though he knew he should have. He released the man roughly and waited for them to stumble away.

He scanned the exits of the large ball room and found a line outside what he assumed to be the ladies’ room. Next to it was a darkened hallway, clearly roped off against trespass. At the start of the night he had wanted a distraction—he had wanted something to do to take his mind of off everything. In fact if Lupin had made his move in that first half hour Zenigata might have caused a scene and given chase but now? Now Zenigata was just damned tired. It was like herding cats.

He trudged forward and through the sea of drunk and tipsy money towards the hallway. He gave a small nod to the women in line—a few of whom looked angry he was disobeying the house rules—and stepped over the barrier into the dark hallway. He let his eyes adjust slowly, walking with the fingers of his left hand brushing against the chair rail for guidance. It took him longer than he thought it should to be able to see anything and he regretted having so much to drink. He didn’t feel impaired but he knew his body should have responded faster and that told him all he needed to know.

He came to a fork in the hallway and he paused. He closed his eyes and stumbled a little in place as the room spun just enough to be disorienting. He steadied himself with a stronger hand on the wall and closed his eyes tighter. If he was an animal his ears would have perked, as it was he just tilted his head forward a little and concentrated on what he could hear.

The humming of central air; the party a distorted hum behind him; his own heart slow in his chest; a soft clatter and a whispered, ‘crap’. The inspector slowly opened his eyes and turned down the leftmost hall. A few steps in and he could see a door partially cracked open, light from potentially an open window cast a beam like a beacon. He slowly pushed open the door and peered inside.

As expected Lupin (Amelie) was bent over a desk in an incredibly lavish study. She was rifling through documents curiously, clearly just looking for something of import without a direction in mind. 

Zenigata cleared his throat, loudly and watched. Lupin stiffened and slowly looked up. It took less than half a second for his sharp wit to catch up and he leaned against the desk with one hip, sliding the drawer closed in the process.

“This… isn’t what it looks like,” Amelie (Lupin) laughed, “you see—”

“I really don’t care,” Zenigata interrupted, catching both of them off-guard. He pushed open the door the rest of the way and took a small step inside. He could see Lupin sizing him up, eyes like a wild animal in a corner. Zenigata slowly stretched his arm out and indicated the hallway, gazing at Lupin unblinkingly. He watched shock, disbelief, and then fear creep across Lupin’s face. To the criminal’s credit however he did move out from behind the desk and slowly approach.

“Inspector I—” Lupin attempted again, voice still an octave higher than usual.

Zenigata sneered, stomped and jerked his hand further into the hallway though he’d never dropped it. He watched the same confused expression cross Lupin’s dolled up features and at any other time he would have found a thrill at having so completely and thoroughly baffled the thief. As it was he just wanted this night to be over.

He waited until Lupin turned for the exit and at the last second he turned out his foot. Having been so caught off-guard the thief didn’t see the trick and stumbled. As Zenigata reached out to ‘help steady’ Amelie he thrust a hand unceremoniously down the front of Lupin’s dress. He felt the bare skin of Lupin’s chest against his knuckles and the sharp edges of something on his fingertips. He grabbed hold and pulled it back up through the dress.

Zenigata barely registered Lupin’s scandalized, gaping expression as he looked at the bracelet in his hand. It was fancy, that was for sure, and was worth a non-laughable amount of money but it was hardly worth all of Lupin’s effort. Zenigata sighed as he realized what the thief was actually doing—picking off everyone except the one everyone assumed he would. Zenigata felt like a fool for not having seen it coming.

As Lupin steadied himself—the inspector could sense he was prepping to make a break for it—Zenigata instead held out his hand, palm up, and wiggled his fingers as if to say ‘give it here’.


	8. Part One, Chapter 8

Lupin couldn’t breathe. Not since he was a child had he been in a situation where his mind stopped working and he legitimately had no idea what to do, no idea what was going to happen next. His mind was a big flashing warning sign but he couldn’t read it. Slowly feeling returned to his numb soul.

“Pops—what gives!” he gasped at last, dropping his voice to its regular register.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zenigata responded in a blank, emotionless voice like a robot. Lupin continued to stare. This was some kind of dream or nightmare… this couldn’t be reality. What was going on!?

Zenigata wiggled his fingers again and Lupin shook his head.

“No, no, no. I don’t get it. What’s happening?”

“I think you’re confused,” Zenigata continued in the same monotone, “let’s get you back to the party.”

Lupin jerked back as if struck. This was reality and it suddenly, very much was not about Lupin at all… it was all about Zenigata. There was a cog out of place, something jammed in the gears that stopped the whole machine. It was trying to move forward but all it got was a lot of smoke and disappointment. Lupin felt his stomach churn.

“Are you—” 

“Ma’am—”

“—all right, Inspector?” Lupin finally pressed his voice back into a higher register. He watched Zenigata actually look at him, something flickering in the older man’s eyes. 

“You don’t seem like yourself,” Lupin (as Amelie) continued, watching Zenigata’s arm slowly lower to his side, “do you need to talk to someone?”

“I—” Zenigata looked like he was remembering how to emote again, “no it—”

“Please?” Amelie/Lupin pressed, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible, “just pretend I’m your best friend.” He flashed a smile, watching as a new kind of sorrow crossed over Zenigata’s face. 

“We should get back,” Zenigata muttered quietly after a second.

“You’re not wearing your wedding band,” Lupin jumped, his voice still soft as Amelie. He didn’t want to snap whatever was left of Zenigata in half but he had to keep trying. He felt like he was alone on a small dingy trying to save a drowning man—he could only offer the bare minimum but it might just be enough.

“That’s because I’m… I’m not married,” Zenigata said haltingly, his voice lifting a bit. It sounded to Lupin like it was the first time those words had come out of Zenigata’s mouth. Lupin slowly put a hand on Zenigata’s arm.

“What happened?”

“She sent… a letter, divorce papers,” Zenigata near-whispered, as if on autopilot. Lupin felt a little guilty, like perhaps he was taking advantage of the state the inspector was in but he also knew something worse was just as likely. If he didn’t try and get Zenigata to open up and deal with some of the turmoil clogging him down it was likely the inspector might never do so.

Lupin very, very slowly looped his arm around Zenigata’s and led them back into the study. He steered them towards the desk and let Zenigata lean against it, almost seated but not quite.

“Was it a shock?” Lupin pressed after a second. 

“No, not… not really,” Zenigata was looking at his hands, head down. He had the posture and attire of a man at a funeral. “I just—I guess I… I still thought we could fix it,” he sighed and shook his head, “stupid.”

“No, no it’s not stupid,” Lupin reached out and gently tilted Zenigata’s head up. He was taking huge risks for a number of reasons and most of them were risks on the inspector’s behalf. Lupin had started this and now he knew he had to get through it so that Zenigata’s usual spirit would swallow any guilt his momentary break down triggered. That too could drown even a strong swimmer.

“Did you love her?”

“No,” Zenigata answered, quickly and automatically like he’d been given some kind of truth serum, “I wanted to.”

“Maybe it’s for the best then?”

Lupin offered another small, sad smile. It was also a smile of understanding—that love was complex and fleeting at the best of times—but he couldn’t voice that, not like this. 

“I-I want to be devastated,” Zenigata said after a second, causing Lupin to blink curiously, “I want to really grieve everything and-and…” the inspector shook his head, “I’m just so tired.”

“Can I call you a cab?” Lupin offered, feeling worried now, genuinely worried, for the other man’s state of mind. “Is there a friend here I can—”

“Heh, don’t have any friends,” Zenigata turned his head away and Lupin could see tears starting to cling to his long lashes, “just Lupin.”

“What?” Lupin said in a quiet voice, sure he’d heard but not sure he understood.

“My work, that’s all I’ve got. No wife, my daughter lives in Japan and I never see her, no friends, no colleagues that stick around for more than a single case. All I have,” Zenigata slowly met Lupin’s eyes, “is Lupin.”

Lupin had done it now. He had no idea what to say to that—how would anyone have a response for something like that? There were quiet, intimate tears on Zenigata’s chin and the thief didn’t like that either. He found himself praying for those big, blubbering tears he’d seen on the inspector. He wanted the fire and the passion and found himself on his stomach cradling embers. 

He reached out again—against all his better judgement—and wiped a thumb under one of Zenigata’s eyes. Instantly his wrist was caught in the other man’s hand and for a fleeting second Lupin relaxed into the touch. It was familiar. It only lasted for a fleeting second before Zenigata leaned up and kissed him.


	9. Part One, Chapter 9

Zenigata was not drunk enough for this. He didn’t have enough alcohol in his veins to unpack all the feelings that were rising to the surface. Feelings that this was good and why hadn’t he done this all along and maybe it was time to finally acknowledge something he’d swallowed a long time ago. But he wasn’t drunk enough for that, not even by a long shot.

Lupin’s wrist was surprisingly delicate in his hand and the thief smelled like women’s perfume. Zenigata could feel silken, stained lips against his own and a tussle of long hair against his forehead. Amelie, he told himself, was a very good kisser and an even better listener. The thought made him sad.

He pulled away and turned his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Yes, that searing guilt told him he was certainly not drunk enough. He wanted to release Amelie’s wrist but his fingers felt like a vice and he couldn’t find the nerve to unlock them. 

Deft fingers found his chin, his cheek and slowly turned his head back. He opened his eyes and found Amelie very close, a soft but desperate searching in her face as she stared at him. He let his eyes close as she leaned in and kissed him back.

Amelie’s hand on his cheek was surprisingly confident and she smelled a little like aftershave. Zenigata could feel a strong jaw pressed against him and the static brush of fake hair against his forehead. Lupin, he told himself, was a very good kisser and an even better listener. The thought made him sad.

They broke away silently and Zenigata tipped his forehead forward. He wanted that contact so badly and not even the bell was sounding at him anymore. His hand was still wrapped around Lupin’s wrist and Lupin’s hand was still on the inspector’s cheek. Zenigata slowly lifted his other hand and found Lupin’s waist, wrapped in red, and placed his hand there heavily. He felt the thief shift weight and slide forward a little closer.

Lupin moved to stand in front of Zenigata, and the inspector shuddered as he released his hold on Lupin’s wrist. The now-free hand moved to the back of his neck and tilted him down to a more comfortable position, resting his head against Lupin’s exposed collarbone. The hand on his cheek moved and the inspector soon found him cradled against the criminal like a child. He moved his left hand to Lupin’s waist as well and leaned heavily into the other man.

Zenigata slid his hands around to Lupin’s back, crossing them over one another and wrapping his arms firmly around the criminal’s mid-section. He heard the shifting of Lupin’s dress—a loud sound in the otherwise silent room—as the younger man was forced to shift to accommodate Zenigata’s sudden need for closeness. The inspector slid his hands further, one coming to rest at the small of Lupin’s back and the other moving up to brush bare skin between broad shoulder blades.

He could feel Lupin’s own hands loosen their hold and Zenigata had the presence of mind to wonder if he made the thief feel trapped. It only lifted a surge of guilt deep within the older man and he wasn’t ready to address that particular emotion yet and so he ignored it. More pressing was the overwhelming need for intimacy, for touch, for something to start that part of his brain back up—the part that felt anything beyond crushing exhaustion and loss.

Zenigata turned his head slowly and pressed a kiss to Lupin’s collarbone. He heard very clearly the gasp it pulled from the criminal. He huffed in a breath, mouth parted against pale skin, and did it again. Lupin’s hands moved to his shoulders and he tilted his head so that the neck kiss fell into the hollow of Lupin’s throat. He could feel the strain as Lupin tried to keep eyes on him though it was nearly impossible in this position.

Almost using Lupin as an anchor, Zenigata slowly found his feet, forcibly bringing Lupin with him though the other offered no resistance. Zenigata had never really paid attention to just how closely their heights were matched, as he stood and slowly brought his head up properly he trailed soft, silent kisses up Lupin’s neck to his chin.

As he turned to kiss Lupin’s lips again he knew something was different. His mind felt more relaxed and he knew that didn’t make sense. He knew—somewhere on the backburner of his mind—that this was wrong but he could not recall a time when he felt more at peace with what he was doing. Once more he stuffed aside the thoughts to focus on the sensation tingling up his spine: he was feeling something and it was everything he needed.

Lupin’s hands on his shoulders slowly began to move but Zenigata kept his arms firmly in place. One of the criminal’s arms wrapped over his shoulders while the second hesitated before snaking into his hair. Their chests pressed together tightly and the inspector found himself annoyed by the ruffles of the dress and the curve of the faux bosom. 

Zenigata began peppering kisses to Lupin’s face wherever he could reach, mostly around the other man’s mouth and chin. He stepped away from the desk and took Lupin with him, turning after a second and backing the thief into the wood. He released the embrace he’d trapped Lupin in and his hands grabbed either side of Lupin’s neck tenderly, thumbs playing against the other’s chin as Zenigata kissed him like gasping for air.

Lupin’s hands slid from Zenigata and braced the criminal on the table. As the inspector continued kissing like his life depended on it he felt the other man bunch up his dress enough to give him room to hop up onto the table. Releasing a handful of ruffles Lupin’s hands were soon on Zenigata’s chest, loosening his tie and pulling him in deeper, closer.


	10. Part One, Chapter 10

Lupin was well past feeling trapped; he was well past feeling a lot of things actually. He kept Zenigata’s face close to his own by way of his now-loosened tie. Reluctantly the thief had to brace himself against the desk with his other hand, lifting his legs just a little to pull Zenigata between them. The inspector kissed like a feverish man seeking water, barely breathing and looking more than a little light headed. 

Lupin broke their seal purposefully to force the other man to intake oxygen, turning his head so that Zenigata’s mouth found a bared neck and shoulder. He felt wet lips assault the skin there, hot, gasped breaths sneaking down across his back in between. He nuzzled his head against the side of Zenigata’s, arching his back and pressing himself up against the ruffles of his dress and the body of the man in front of him.

To Lupin’s great surprise Zenigata’s hands began wandering. They spread wide across his back and slid down his sides to his waist. They latched there for a only a second before sliding downward along his stockinged thighs. The bunching of Lupin’s dress exposed his knees and Zenigata’s hands soon found the barely covered flesh. The criminal could have sworn he felt a shudder pass through the other man at the contact.

Lupin barely bit back a whimper as Zenigata squeezed his knees desperately, pressing his lower half forward and crushing the dress between them. It was something of a rut, an awkward thing with nothing but instinct and the occasional forethought to guide it. Lupin was glad for any friction offered to him and rose to meet the inspector’s hips whenever he could.

The thief tilted his head down and watched as Zenigata’s hands slowly began to move upwards. Not just upwards but upwards and under—sliding along fishnet covering under the sleek red fabric. For a second Lupin was not sure which was more thrilling; the feeling of Zenigata’s hands slowly sliding up his thighs, or the sight of them vanishing under his dress. Another second and he decided the sensation was winning.

Lupin nearly threw his head back and made a soft mewling sound, but Zenigata’s hands seemed to stall just short of a real destination. Lupin wiggled impatiently between the desk and Zenigata. The friction was just enough to really tease him into an erection but not nearly enough for anything past that. He slid his hand up from Zenigata’s tie to the back of the other man’s neck. He pulled him in for a darkly passionate kiss.

Lupin almost felt ticklish against Zenigata’s hands squeezing and shifting against his thighs. He could feel the hesitation in the other man and didn’t quite know how to tell him it was all right without breaking the spell that was clearly cast over the room. He tried to scoot closer but only succeeded in bumping their bodies together—which was quite lovely—but not at all what he’d been trying to do. 

It seemed like perhaps Zenigata was reluctant to take that step, it was a big one compared to simply kissing and rubbing against one another. A kind of step one couldn’t take back or mistake, if one was—for example—relying on a dress, a wig and some makeup to see them through the exchange. The thought cut Lupin a little deeper than he would have liked but he decided to let it go for the time being and enjoy the moment.

He lifted his legs just a little, unable to really just sit and wait, and wrapped them around Zenigata’s waist. He heard the other man let out a short groan near the back of his ear and it sent the hair on the back of his neck and arms standing upright. The inspector leaned harder forward and Lupin was nearing horizonal across the desk, which was fine by him. 

One of the hands on his thighs removed itself from his dress and braced against the table. Lupin was about to mourn the loss when Zenigata thrust a little harder against him and the thief’s mind went blank. The ruffles of the dress between them made it seem as if Zenigata had quite a large secret and it was thrilling to Lupin to imagine what that might look like. 

He arched his back up and canted his hips for a better angle. The neck time Zenigata rutted against him he keened, mouth falling open. It was hot and burning and delicious and Lupin hadn’t realized how much he wanted it just like this. There was suddenly nothing about the scenario that wasn’t absolutely perfect and the tingles ran powerfully up Lupin’s side. 

He began grinding against Zenigata, filling in the space between the inspector’s slow, dragging thrusts. It almost seemed like he was laying a trap for Lupin, giving him just enough to really catch his attention so that Lupin would lower his guard. The thief had never met anyone who was able to hold back so much while being so completely, passionately, desperately in need of it. 

He could tell Zenigata was lost to the instinct propelling him forward and it was refreshing at least to see that the other man was a slave to the same desires as Lupin. Zenigata’s cheeks were red and he could barely breathe. He was still trying to pepper kisses along Lupin’s neck and shoulders, sometimes his collarbone and chin, but it was clearly a lot of effort to do that and rut at the same time. Zenigata’s kisses became sloppy and uncoordinated, missing their mark once or twice and leaving him gasping against Lupin’s sweat-shined flesh.

Lupin took a bit of a risk and threw his bracing arm over Zenigata’s back from under the inspector’s bracing arm. This left all the weight of Lupin that was not yet horizontal on the officer. Lupin knew he was strong enough to hold it but whether or not he would try or just give in and lay Lupin back was the question.


	11. Part One, Chapter 11

Zenigata felt warm all over, that pleasant, tingling, warm-from-the-inside feeling. Lupin’s sudden weight on him was grounding and helpful as his head continued to swim as it always did when he got himself worked up. Maybe that was why he had trouble talking to women: sexual arousal made him dizzy. With this however—Lupin pulling him down, coiled around him like a snake—he felt safe and wanted. 

Wanted. Desired. Demanded, even. It was entirely unknown territory for the Inspector and he didn’t have time to feel sorry for himself over it. He imagined this must be how Lupin felt all the time—just so carnally acknowledged and intimately willing. No wonder the man was a glutton for punishment and a daredevil if there ever was one. With this kind of head-rush Zenigata himself almost felt like he was capable of anything.

He shifted his bracing arm and leaned all the way forward, resting Lupin’s back on the desk and covering the red dress with his black tuxedo. The hand at Lupin’s thigh had become shifted and dislodged and so Zenigata sought to right it. He slipped it around to grab the back of Lupin’s thigh this time, almost insisting that the thief lift his leg higher, dig his heel in a little deeper.

Each brush of Lupin against him—his breath, his hands, his heels, his thighs—all of it pushed Zenigata forward. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been so close with another person and the thought stalled him. He felt something welling up, his throat burning and he tried desperately to moved past it. He tightened his hold on Lupin’s thigh, enough to leave bruises he was certain, and instead of thrusting he ground his hips down and into the other man.

“Ooh,” Lupin’s voice was hoarse and sounded nothing like Amelie, “fuck.” The thief punctuated, grinding his hips in quick little circles against Zenigata’s. He let go of the officer with one hand and Zenigata heard it connected with the edge of the desk, holding Lupin down. 

Zenigata tilted his head slightly as he alternated between thrusting and rolling his hips, watching Lupin’s face. The thief had his eyes squeezed shut and his dark brows wrenched up in the middle. His bottom lip was pulled into his mouth and some of the red from his lipstick was smeared along his two front teeth. His mascara was flawless, but some of his eyeshadow had been smudged. 

Zenigata tucked his head into the crook of Lupin’s shoulder and swallowed hard. Lupin wanted him—honestly. It wasn’t a ploy or a trick and the rest of the gang sure as hell wasn’t waiting to jump out and yell surprise. It didn’t even really matter so much at the moment that it was Lupin; simply that there was another person on this miserable planet that didn’t find Zenigata annoying or dramatic or thoughtless. Someone who genuinely wanted to spend time with him. Someone who knew all his odd habits and his even stranger hours, someone who probably didn’t care that he couldn’t cook and he most likely wouldn’t ever make it home in time for the holidays. Someone who really, honestly, truly liked him.

That was it—that was the last piece holding him together and it jiggled free. Zenigata suddenly gasped against Lupin’s skin, and pulled his hands away. He immediately wrapped them under Lupin’s waist and back and pulled the thief as close as he could, as tightly as he could. He felt like perhaps he was crushing Lupin—wasn’t really sure if the other man could breathe through the sudden embrace—but if Zenigata didn’t do this he was going to drown.

He hid his face, gasping between the two of them, and began to weep. It was more than his tears earlier but not quite like his usual emotional breakdown. He wanted to hide himself against Lupin and maybe never move. His libido stilled and his body melted into the feeling of another human so close and comforting. 

He could feel Lupin stirring, not attempting to move or push him off, just stirring in confusion. The thief was trying to get a glimpse of Zenigata, likely trying to figure out what had happened or what was happening. Both of Lupin’s hands slowly moved to Zenigata’s back and the inspector let out another low sob as Lupin began rubbing his back soothingly. The inspector wanted to apologize for the whole thing, for working Lupin up only to break down like this, but he could barely breathe enough to cry so words were absolutely out of the question for at least the next few moments.

Lupin kept himself wrapped around Zenigata, however, and the officer was silently thankful. The criminal even tucked his head down against Zenigata’s after a few seconds, the embrace turning from sexual to simply intimate. Lupin’s legs dropped from Zenigata’s hips but they remained locked around his thighs, a gentler and less urgent squeeze was applied. 

Zenigata took a slow, shuddering breath and tried to reign himself in. He’d never been ashamed of being so emotional—his mother taught him emotions were good and letting them out was the best medicine—but he wished he could stop. His chest heaved and jerked like he had the world’s worst hiccups. Everything hurt again yet this time Lupin held him together.

“I—” Zenigata whimpered into Lupin’s skin, “I’m just so lonely,” he gasped. 

There was a pause and then Zenigata felt Lupin tightening around him. The other man wrapped his arm tighter over Zenigata’s back and pressed the other hand into Zenigata’s head, squeezing with everything in him. Zenigata returned the gesture, sucking in air that smelled like Lupin and expensive wood polish. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sobbed into Lupin’s shoulder but it felt like ages. He slowly regained control of himself and found he was able to breathe in steady, rhythmic gasps rather than stilted, shallow sobs.


	12. Part One Finale

‘Leave it to Zenigata,’ Lupin thought to himself, ‘to leave me speechless three times in one night.’ 

He only eased up on his grip once he felt the inspector shifting. He released Zenigata and remained horizontal on the desk as the other man stood, not wanting to scare him by moving too quickly. Once Zenigata had stood and turned away to dry his eyes, Lupin slowly sat up. He began adjusting his dress, keeping his eyes on Zenigata’s back. 

He would have time later to think about how unfulfilled the tryst had left him, at the time he realized he had more important things to worry about. For starters what this was going to do to Pops. Would this change everything now? Had he managed to work through any of his trauma? Would his impeccable spirit be able to bounce back?

Had… had Lupin really screwed everything up?

“Zenigata…” Lupin said carefully, his voice somewhere between Lupin and Amelie. He wasn’t sure what would be better.

“I’m—uh… I’m gonna go back out before they notice I’m gone,” he said quietly, turning his head but not quite meeting Lupin’s eyes. “You should—you should go too.”

“Oh, right,” Lupin said quietly, again not sure ‘who’ Zenigata wanted to speak with. It made him feel a little sour but he understood, at least he thought he did. It was all just very sad.

Zenigata started for the door but Lupin couldn’t just let it go. He moved quickly to follow him and grabbed Zenigata’s arm. 

“Listen, pops,” Lupin dropped the act, eyes on the floor for a second before darting up to meet Zenigata’s. “I know things seem real bad now but—just keep your chin up, all right? I’m uh—not clear on all the details but… you’re a real swell guy. Anybody would be lucky to have you, girl… guy…” Lupin let the statement hang. He watched Zenigata’s puffy eyes widen a little at the suggestion.

“What I mean is—don’t give up, for me, ok?” Lupin grinned and wrapped Zenigata into another hug. This one was decidedly a little less intimate but no less emotional. Lupin could feel the inspector lean into the embrace a little and he smiled.

With a quick flick of his wrist and some deft maneuvering he’d pulled the handcuffs off Zenigata’s belt, removed all the stolen jewels from his own bosom, placed the jewels into Zenigata’s pockets, and handcuffed Zenigata to the sconce behind him. He slowly ducked out from under Zenigata’s arms as the inspector blinked. Lupin paused in the hallway, watching as Zenigata registered the situation and then jerked like he’d been shocked.

“LUPIN!”

The thief laughed and blew the inspector a kiss before vanishing down the hallway. He laughed as he heard Zenigata pulling against the sconce, his yelling amping up. It seemed like things would be back to normal in no time.


	13. Part Two

Zenigata flopped down into the couch with a loud groan, his arms falling to his sides. His head slipped down and his hat moved to cover his face. He’d already stripped off his coat and jacket at the door—hanging them up like a gentleman—but that was all the energy he had left.

“Maybe I’m just not…” he waved his hand in the air as if grasping for the word, “special or whatever.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Pops,” Lupin purred as he moved to stand behind the couch, “it just takes time.” 

Zenigata snorted and continued to sink into the couch. Lupin leaned onto his elbows behind him, the thief’s hands barely in his peripheral vision. Zenigata found himself glancing upside-down at the criminal as Lupin removed his hat and grinned down at him.

“Y’know, maybe a nice break is all you need,” he winked.

“You might be right,” Zenigata agreed, smiling up at Lupin innocently.

“The other three are gonna be gone all night,” Lupin followed-up, setting Zenigata’s hat on his own head.

“Oh yeah? Doin’ what?” Zenigata sat up a bit straighter as Lupin walked around the couch and laughed a little.

“Does it matter?”

“Er, I mean… You’re the one that brought it up,” Zenigata rubbed at his head as Lupin came to stand in front of him.

“Only to illustrate that we’re gonna be alone for a while,” Lupin leaned in and put himself very close to the Inspector, bending at the hip. He slowly lowered a knee between Zenigata’s legs and put his hands on either side of the other man’s head. He met Zenigata’s wide, momentarily confused eyes and saw him blush a little.

“Oh uh—I get it,” Zenigata laughed nervously, then reached up and grabbed hold of Lupin’s chin gently. He pulled the thief in for a kiss, more than chaste but not quite passionate.

As they pulled away Lupin chuckled softly, touching his forehead to Zenigata’s. He brought his other leg onto the couch and shifted to straddle the inspector. He heard the other man swallow hard.

“If you’re not sure—”

“No,” Zenigata said strongly, grabbing either side of Lupin’s face—almost comically, “I’m just… you may have to go slow. There’s a lot of… uhm…”

“It’s called repression,” Lupin provided, voice distorted through his squeezed cheeks.

“Isn’t that when they take your car?” Zenigata lowered his hands, looking up at Lupin confused. Lupin laughed again and Zenigata smiled crookedly.

“We’ll go slow then,” Lupin leaned back on his haunches, half-lidded eyes locking onto Zenigata’s. He began removing his tie, tossing it over his shoulder. Zenigata slowly lifted his hands and placed them on Lupin’s legs, palms spread wide just above the thief’s knees. Zenigata watched Lupin’s hands work down the line of buttons along his shirt. 

“Have you ever been with another man, Pops?” Lupin pressed coquettishly, enjoying how red it made Zenigata’s cheeks. 

“Nu-not unless you count,” Zenigata paused, voice caught along the line of pale skin along the split of Lupin’s dark shirt, “that uh—party…”

“Wait, with me?” Lupin paused at the last button, glancing up at Zenigata curiously. The inspector nodded and looked back up to meet Lupin’s eyes, “when I was in the dress?”

“Ye-yeah,” Zenigata nodded, his thumbs petting Lupin’s leg nervously. 

“It’s—it’s all right that I’m not in one now, yeah?” Lupin sounded just the smallest bit unsure as he let his shirt hang open, waiting for a response.

Zenigata just nodded for a second, lifting one hand. He paused, rubbed his fingers against his palm and then haltingly brushed a few fingers along Lupin’s exposed stomach. He gently moved aside the shirt and slid his hand up a little higher until his palm met flesh.

“The dress was-was nice,” Zenigata said breathily, “but I think it—it just…”

“Like a spoonful of sugar after medicine?” Lupin let his own hands relax at his side, wanting to let Zenigata become comfortable before making his own move.

“No that—that sounds sour,” Zenigata rubbed his thumb just under the line of Lupin’s pecs. He felt dizzy, light-headed as the situation began to affect him. His mouth felt dry. 

“But you might have needed the medicine,” Lupin purred, eyes closing at Zenigata’s soft, exploratory touches, “in the long run. It might have been good for you.”

“A-are you the sugar or the medicine?” Zenigata whispered, hand stalling just underneath Lupin’s right nipple. He felt the criminal laugh against his palm and it almost made him see stars.

“That depends,” Lupin opened his eyes, tilting his head and glancing down at Zenigata, “do you want me or need me?”

“B-both,” Zenigata whispered, staring at Lupin with his heart pounding in his chest.

“Guess it’s time for a new analogy then, huh?” Lupin leaned down and was met half-way eagerly by Zenigata. This time the kiss was quite passionate, a heady kind of rush. Lupin felt like the inspector was slightly more out-of-breath than he expected but he kind of liked it. Lupin cupped Zenigata’s face with his right hand, the other fell to start working on the inspector’s tie.

Zenigata slid his right hand up to join his left, slowly curving over Lupin’s waist and then up bare flesh. He drew his hands over the thief’s nipples and felt a kind of grin from through their kiss. He hesitated and moved his hands back down, feeling Lupin’s body twitch in response. Zenigata grinned back against Lupin’s lips and turned his hands to rub them softly with his thumbs.

Lupin felt a searing kind of heat—the good kind—dart across his chest as Zenigata made himself familiar with things. It made sense honestly for that to be where the inspector went first if his only experience was with women. Lupin was far from complaining however and he arched into the touch just a little to let Zenigata know it was much appreciated. He pulled away from the kiss and slid himself a little further into Zenigata’s lap.

As Lupin settled properly into his lap—right over where his pants were starting to strain—Zenigata nudged Lupin’s head up with his nose. He turned his lips against the criminal’s throat with soft, quick kisses. He moved his hands up and away from Lupin’s nipples, curving them over broad shoulders and down over the slope of Lupin’s back. He turned his wrists a little to catch and pull the thief’s shirt with him.

Lupin tilted his head back and leaned forward, a head taller than Zenigata in their current position. He dropped Zenigata’s tie behind the couch and started to undo the other man’s buttons. Admittedly however it was hard with Zenigata teasing against his nipples, each rub was borderline ticklish. He smiled broadly as the inspector’s next move pulled away his shirt. It was a nice, firm step forward and as a bit of a reward Lupin let a little more of his weight down into Zenigata’s lap instead of supporting himself on his own.

Zenigata sucked in a quick breath against Lupin’s collarbone as he felt a deeper pressure against his crotch. He wasn’t aware that Lupin had been holding back some of his weight and it made the inspector marvel at the power in the thief’s thighs. He groaned against Lupin’s skin and pulled down on the back of Lupin’s collar to leave only the criminal’s arms still clothed. Zenigata slowly pulled his hands off Lupin’s back and out of his shirt, sliding them back to Lupin’s chest, then stomach.

Lupin was still grinning dumbly as he leaned back to remove his shirt. He slipped his hands easily out of the sleeves and dropped it to the coffee table somewhere behind him. He held his arms out to present his half-naked self to the inspector as if they’d never been shirtless around one another before. In fact they had come very close to seeing each other completely nude before, the circumstances were very, very different this time though.

“We still feeling good?” Lupin asked, watching as Zenigata moved his eyes over exposed skin. The inspector moved his hands to his own shirt, nodding instead of using his words. Lupin laughed and reached out to grab Zenigata’s hands.

“Let me?” 

Zenigata felt like he was being propositioned for something much more than having his shirt removed—he supposed in a sense he was. He could only manage a slight nod and returned his hands to Lupin’s hips. He could have closed his eyes and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep under the sensations of Lupin’s hands slowly unbuttoning his shirt. That is, of course, if he wasn’t becoming rather painfully hard in his pants at the same time. He glanced down—trying to be discrete even in the situation at hand—and let his eyes fall to Lupin’s crotch and a clear bulge there as well.

Lupin smirked as he watched Zenigata glance down, taking in the depth of Lupin’s feelings for him. The criminal tried not to obscure the view too much as he bent to undo the last button of Zenigata’s shirt. He wanted to brush his hands over the sizeable tent in the inspector’s pants but refrained—one step at a time—and slid his hands up Zenigata’s chest languidly. He felt the inspector gasp as Lupin’s hands curved over his shoulders as Zenigata had done to him.

Zenigata suddenly lurched forward and away from the back of the couch, forcing Lupin to grip his shoulders to maintain his position. The criminal laughed as Zenigata quickly attempted to shrug out of his shirt as if a mighty urgency had just seized him. His hands—predictably—got stuck for a second and left him flailing before the shirt flew somewhere over the armrest. He glanced back up at Lupin’s smiling face and grinned.

“Not bad, pops,” Lupin nodded, glancing down at the chest bared before him. He traced a single finger between Zenigata’s pecs and trailed it downwards, slowing down as he did and stopping just under the inspector’s navel. He glanced up to meet Zenigata’s eyes before very cautiously dropping his finger to the inspector’s belt buckle. The inspector’s hands found their way back to Lupin’s legs—thighs, higher than before—and gripped tightly. Lupin took it as a sign to continue.

Zenigata tilted his head back onto the back of the couch and took a few steadying breaths. He’d gotten hard far too quickly and the room was still a little spinny and twirly. He honestly didn’t know how Lupin was keeping himself so steady and upright but maybe the dizziness got easier with experience. He found himself absently rubbing his thumbs on Lupin’s thighs, squeezing every now and again as deft hands worked at his belt buckle. 

Lupin opened Zenigata’s belt buckle and moved for the zipper. He paused and leaned forward, brushing his lips over the other man’s earlobe seductively.

“Tell me if I need to slow down, Koichi,” he purred in a dark tone. He felt the other man’s hips jerk and grinned. While pressing a few kisses to the side of Zenigata’s neck he opened the other man’s fly and brushed the back of his knuckles through thick, curly hairs.

Zenigata let out a quick whoosh of breath and tightened his grip on Lupin’s thighs like an anchor. A heavy pulse ran through his groin and he jerked his hips up again, Lupin’s lips near his ears sending a shiver up his side. He wondered for a moment if he should be doing the same for Lupin but he couldn’t seem to convince his hands to move. He felt Lupin’s fingers start to move for the band of his boxers and his heart thudded powerfully trying to keep blood everywhere it needed to be. 

Lupin kept himself tuned into Zenigata’s small movements as he continued on his path. He wouldn’t be able to do too much more unless they shifted to really remove some clothing but he wasn’t quite ready to do that yet. He let a few fingers slip into Zenigata’s boxers and made tentative contact with the base of the inspector’s shaft. He felt the other man gulp and press back into the couch. He pulled his hand away slowly and his wrist was grabbed.

“You-you don’t have to stop,” Zenigata whimpered, not sure what he’d done to suggest Lupin was moving too fast. The thief leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his forehead.

“I’m not stopping,” Lupin promised, sliding backwards in a way that felt very much like he was stopping. Zenigata slowly released his wrist, “I’m just moving to a better position.”

The inspector didn’t have time to question as Lupin made his intent quite clear—even for someone with Zenigata’s lack of experience. The thief slipped to his knees on the ground, sliding Zenigata’s legs apart enough to rest between them. Zenigata shuddered as Lupin slid forward to rest his forearms across Zenigata’s thighs.

Lupin could not keep the shit eating grin off his face as he looked up at Zenigata, already red in the cheeks and breathless. 

“Geez, Zenigata, I haven’t even done anything yet,” he teased, drawing small circles on Zenigata’s upper thigh. He watched the inspector twitch under the attention. 

“You’ve done plenty!” Zenigata barked, not sure what to do with his hands so he pressed them against the couch. 

“Can I do more?” Lupin continued like the cat that got the canary and wasn’t that just fitting. 

Zenigata nodded and watched as Lupin dropped his gaze to the inspector’s open fly. He shifted a little as Lupin’s hands moved to his hips and started to pull his pants down to his thighs, then to his knees, and then—

“Holy shit, Pops!” 

“Wha-what!?” Zenigata’s eyes quickly fell to his exposed boxers, looking for whatever could have caused such an exclamation. An injury he hadn’t known about or maybe a spider. Was there a spider on his leg!?

“You-you’re huge!” Lupin laughed in disbelief, slapping a hand to his head as his eyes remained glued on the incredibly large erection tenting Zenigata’s boxers.

“I—what?” Zenigata muttered, blinking furiously, “it’s not a spider?”

“No it’s not a—what?—no! You’re… Koichi I don’t say this without some authority: that’s easily the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.”

Zenigata’s face went more red if possible, the blush spreading down his neck and to his chest. He glanced down at himself.

“It-it is?”

“Uh huh,” Lupin laughed again, watching Zenigata’s face, “you didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That you were that big!”

“I mean… I’ve never had—I’ve never seen to compare—I don’t…”

“Hang on,” Lupin stood up and undid his own belt buckle, unzipping his fly, dropping his pants and boxers. He placed his hand next to his erection and smirked, “I’m average.”

Zenigata had to forcibly move his eyes to Lupin’s erection, feeling like somehow a step in between was lost. As his eyes settled on the other’ man’s cock his own jumped. Slowly the vast difference in their sizes registered and he leaned forward a bit to remove his boxers and fully expose himself.

“Oooh crap,” Lupin moaned with another light-hearted laugh, “that’s—I mean, have you ever measured that?”

“No! I mean—why would I—” Zenigata was starting to feel a little self-conscious. He tried to cover himself with a hand.

“Hey, it’s a good thing, pops, really good,” Lupin gently slid Zenigata’s hand away, “I’m just surprised that’s all. I was kind of planning on, mmm, well that’s not gonna happen.”

“Plannin’ on what?” 

“I might need a little more planning and preparation to—”

“Oh!” Zenigata exclaimed and slapped a hand over his face in embarrassment. He could hear Lupin’s soft laughter. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, man, guys would kill for a package like that.”

“It’s inconvenient.”

“I’ll bet, but don’t worry—we can still really enjoy this and save the really good stuff for later.”

Zenigata slowly lowered his hand as Lupin kicked his pants and boxers off completely. As the thief moved to sit on Zenigata’s thighs once more the inspector cleared his throat lightly.

“We could—I mean… I could—i-instead of you. I mean I could—you—instead of you… me…”

Lupin laughed as he claimed Zenigata’s lap, their erections dangerously close. 

“No offense, Koichi, but until you can use your big boy words to actually ask me what it is you’re trying to ask me—you’re not ready for that,” he leaned forward and kissed the other man.

Zenigata was a little put-out but the kiss quickly smothered his attitude. He sighed into the familiar contact and cupped Lupin’s cheek in one of his hands. He placed his right hand back on Lupin’s bare thigh, a thrill running through him at the flex of muscle under his fingers. They broke the kiss and Zenigata glanced down at where their cocks almost touched. He was noticeably bigger, practically double in length and width than Lupin.

“Do you trust me?” Lupin whispered, and Zenigata met his eyes quickly.

“No,” there was a pause and then both men laughed.

Lupin shifted just a little and touched his erection to Zenigata’s. The inspector sucked in a quick breath and tightened his grip on Lupin’s thigh. He nodded as Lupin looked up at him but couldn’t move his eyes from their groins. Lupin took a second to lick his own palm gratuitously before slowly making a loose fist over the head of Zenigata’s erection. The inspector mewled.

Zenigata pressed both hands to Lupin’s thighs and gripped. He could feel the muscles flexing and moving beneath his palms and his fingertips creased Lupin’s skin delicately. The hand around his crown was searing hot and the room swayed heavily to one side. Zenigata slowly tilted his head back onto the couch and closed his eyes, hips jerking slightly into Lupin’s hand as the thief circled his palm around.

Lupin took his time, absolutely marveling at the size of Zenigata. It was at least ten inches, no joke, and Lupin was just amused to no end. He’d thought Jigen was large but the gunman really just didn’t have anything on the inspector. If Lupin was a less secure man he might feel a little inadequate. He began to rut himself against Zenigata while lavishing the top half of the inspector’s cock with his hand. 

Zenigata began rubbing his hands up and down Lupin’s thighs in slow, uneven strokes. His hips jerked every few seconds and once or twice he felt Lupin’s thighs adjust to keep the thief in place. It didn’t take long for Zenigata to start panting—open mouthed and desperate—sounds almost leaking from him. It had been years since he’d been with anyone and even longer than that since he’d been with someone he wanted so badly.

“This… good?” Lupin said breathlessly, the evening’s event finally catching up with his bravado. He was thrusting against Zenigata and into his own hands as he moved to use both fists against the joined erections. He earned only a murmured affirmative from the inspector and he grinned. He leaned forward and stole a quick kiss before resting his forehead on Zenigata’s shoulder, eyes still able to watch his hands working them off between them.

A little emboldened by his nearing climax, Zenigata moved his right hand back along Lupin’s thigh. He gripped a handful of Lupin’s rump and squeezed, earning the short breath of a laugh near his collar bone. He hadn’t realized how much he loved the sound of Lupin’s laugh. He left his hand against Lupin’s ass, massaging the other into the thief’s thigh and trying desperately not to rock into the criminal’s hands like a wild beast.

Lupin could hear Zenigata’s heart speeding up, beating powerfully against the inspector’s chest. He moved his hands a little faster, paying special attention to the leaking head of Zenigata’s cock. He wanted to ask how Zenigata touched himself—wanted to know what made him feel best—but he didn’t assume the inspector would be able to answer any questions at the moment, let alone one so dirty and direct. If the jerky, hesitant movements of the other man’s hips were any indicator however he was very nearly there.

“Are you close?” Lupin whispered into Zenigata’s collarbone.

“Fu-fuck,” came the whimpered reply.

Lupin smiled and began kissing the inspector’s neck. He parted his lips and sucked gently at some of the skin, not quite enough to leave a mark. He felt the hands on his body grip harder, Zenigata’s hips jerking a little quicker but no more coordinated. A few quick moans floated over Lupin’s head. 

Zenigata wanted to still his hips because he could very easily feel how much it knocked Lupin off-balance but it wasn’t up to him. The hands working his cock were much too skilled and he was far too gone and too desperate. He slid his hand from Lupin’s ass up to his lower back and then a little higher. He sucked in a breath and pulled Lupin close as his vision began to go white.

Lupin continued working his hands as he felt orgasm reach Zenigata. The large cock in his hand pumped and the feeling was envious and powerful. Lupin licked his lips at a quick, lewd though of how that might feel inside him. He purred a groan and let Zenigata come between them, smearing a little down over his own cock to help with the friction. He could hear Zenigata sucking for air, goosebumps rising all over his exposed skin.

The inspector lost a few good seconds in the aftermath, head swimming and the whole room shifting like standing too quickly after one-too-many drinks. His body was flushed with pleasure and warmth, a little too much so and everything was overly sensitive. He could feel Lupin shifting in his lap, breeze and knuckles occasionally hitting against his softening cock. 

Lupin let his own eyes slip closed as he continued working himself. It was a little more awkward than he’d expected and a little less than what he’d been—secretly—planning but it was still damned good. It was a better first step than anything more involved too he thought. He could feel his own climax creeping in and then the hand on his thigh moved and Lupin felt tentative fingers on the back of his hand.

Zenigata wanted to voice a question—or maybe lay on some thick and flirtatious line like Lupin had been doing—but he knew his voice wasn’t going to respond to him just yet. He was too winded and too far gone. Instead he took things slow, touching the back of Lupin’s hand to let the criminal know his intentions. He then carefully slid his large hand over Lupin’s and trailed two fingers over the head of Lupin’s cock.

Lupin wilted and moaned openly; it was tentative and unexpected. He lowered his own hand down on his shaft to let Zenigata express curiosity on his head. A thumb was swept along the crown of his cock a couple of times cautiously and Lupin’s hips stuttered. The inspector’s hand cupped over Lupin’s cock and began rubbing small, gentle circles. Lupin’s mouth fell open and he splayed his free hand against Zenigata’s chest.

Zenigata tilted his head down and rested it near Lupin’s as he continued his ministrations. It was the way he usually brought himself off and he wasn’t sure if it was Lupin’s usual technique but it certainly seemed to be working. He was shocked when a second later the thief let out a small yelp. Zenigata could barely feel the throbbing against his fingers but he could feel the sticky cum that smeared against his palm. It was not nearly as jarring as he was expecting and he smiled.

Lupin took another second to gather himself and then he slowly sat up, hazy, goofy expression finding Zenigata’s half-asleep face. 

“You—you,” Zenigata attempted and Lupin enjoyed the hoarse sound in his voice, “called me Koichi.”

“Yeah—that’s your name isn’t it?” Lupin felt like he sounded incredibly spent.

“Uh huh, but it—it was nice,” Zenigata laughed a little, “nobody calls me that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time then,” Lupin stretched his arms over his head.

“N-next time,” Zenigata parroted and it sounded like he was confirming plans. Lupin smirked.

“How long does that need to recharge?” He gently poked at Zenigata’s cock and earned a yelp.

“Longer than that!”


	14. Part Three, Chapter 1

“—should be easy enough, all things considered,” Darwin continued without missing a beat. Zenigata knew enough by now to know that dhampir were not entirely human but he was still pretty sure the young man needed to breathe. The way he just rambled on during these meetings seemed to suggest otherwise however.

The inspector knew he should have been paying attention—it was a meeting mostly for his benefit after all—but his mind was already hours away. He hadn’t seen Lupin in almost a month and they were supposed to be meeting up that evening. Work had a chokehold on Zenigata and likewise Lupin had… things… he needed to take care of. Most of the time their paths did not cross on a professional level—at least not anymore—but Zenigata couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss or maybe regret at wondering what Lupin was up to and knowing he probably wouldn’t be consulted.

As if on cue Zenigata’s phone vibrated silently in his pocket—a text. He waved for Darwin to keep going as he glanced down at the text. It was from Lupin.

‘Looking forward to tonight!’ Zenigata read with a smile, or at least that’s the jist he gathered from Lupin’s emoji filled text. Giving Darwin a slight, ‘uh huh’ as if he’d been listening, Zenigata tapped in a reply.

‘Me too,’ he hesitated, tapping the side of the phone in thought as it seemed like too short a message. His hesitation continued as he saw the ellipsis pop up, indicating that Lupin was typing another message. A second later an image popped into the chat. Zenigata frowned in concentration as he stared at the picture. 

It was a glittering object on a bed and Zenigata had no clue what it was. It was slightly egg-shaped… or maybe tear drop was a better descriptor. There was a stem which made the inspector think of a large, red beet. At the base was a glittering jewel of some kind. It had to be quite large even though there was nothing in the picture for him to compare it to. He scrunched up his face and frowned. Was that what Lupin had been ‘working’ on? What had he stolen and why—of all the stupid things to do—had he sent a picture of it to Zenigata?!

‘You know I am still required to contact the authorities for matters of theft,’ Zenigata answered with a frown.

‘I didn’t steal it, pops!’ Lupin answered quickly, ‘bought it fair and square! I wouldn’t be bragging about a used one anyway.’

‘Ah, all right,’ Zenigata hesitated and then added, ‘what is it?’

He watched as the ellipsis popped up and then vanished. A second clicked by and they popped back up only to stop again. He frowned hard at the screen. Had he said something wrong? Was there some code he was supposed to have known or something he missed somewhere? The ellipsis popped up once more and this time Lupin followed it with a message:

‘I’m prepping for tonight, Koichi,’ and then one of his infuriating monkey emoji faces. This one was making a kissy face while winking.

Now Zenigata was super confused. What on earth could that item possibly have to do with their plans? The inspector wracked his brain but all he remembered agreeing to was a nice dinner in his hotel room, just the two of them… He felt his cheeks start to burn a little as a flush crept up. 

It had to be a sex thing. 

His fingers hoovered over the reply. Honestly he was constantly embarrassed by how little he knew about the intimate arts but he continuously forgot to ‘do his homework’ as it was. He kept telling Lupin he would look things up, research since that was something he particularly enjoyed, but he kept pushing it back and forgetting. He blamed it on the job but he knew some of it was just a hurt pride.

He wondered how to search for an explanation without cluing Lupin in that he had no idea what he was looking at. ‘Egg shaped jeweled sex toys’ didn’t seem like a good idea.

Suddenly a lightbulb went off over Zenigata’s head. 

‘Do I need to bring anything special?’ he replied quickly, grinning at his own wit. It was, in his opinion, a great way to coerce Lupin into giving him more information without letting the thief know he still had no idea what he was looking at.

‘Just yourself, big guy!’ And… an eggplant emoji?

An eggplant?!

Zenigata was starting to feel like he was way out of his depth. There was something big here he was missing. It had him considering just how old he must seem as somehow everyone was in on the newest ‘lingo’ but him. Lupin had been born over one hundred years ago and he knew more about the internet than Zenigata!

The inspector puffed out his cheeks and swallowed his pride.

‘I have no idea what any of this means,’ he pouted, closing his phone and stuffing it into his pocket. He glanced up at Darwin who had been talking the entire time without missing a beat. The dhampir smiled at him and kept going but all Zenigata could hear was Lupin’s laughter. Instead of making him irate, however, it somehow started to calm his nerves and a smile bubbled up from behind his tightly crossed arms. It was so silly, he thought rather suddenly, pictures over phones and trying to flirt with vegetable emojis.

His phone buzzed three times rapidly, indicating Lupin had sent him three quick texts back-to-back. He hesitated before pulling his phone back out of his pocket and opening the chat. 

He really, really wished he hadn’t. He wished he’d excused himself before reading the replies…

‘Haha!’

‘Oh, were you serious?’

‘I told you that you had the biggest dick I’d ever seen—so this is gonna help get me ready for you tonight.’

Zenigata was pretty sure his heart had replaced his esophagus and if he opened his mouth every drop of blood in his body was just going to come pouring out. He could hear his pulse in his ears and suddenly it was very, very hot.

“Mr.Zenigata?” Darwin pressed, concerned as he watched the inspector’s face color and then pale rapidly. The man looked ready to pass out, “are you all right?”

“I uh—yea… Excuse me a second?”

“O-of course, take your time,” Darwin watched as the other man stumbled out of the room quickly and then darted down the hall.


	15. Part Three, Chapter 2

Zenigata wiggled his tie loose as the elevator dinged to announce his arrival to the top floor. His long coat was already tossed over his arm and a few buttons were unceremoniously undone along his shirt. Things had run late--things were always running late--and the inspector was starting to feel like the outfit was a second skin. 

Sure he’d worn nearly the same outfit while he’d been chasing Lupin but somehow it was… different. Back then he’d had no choice but to wear the outfit for hours, sometimes days, on end. Chasing Lupin meant he had to be ready at a moment’s notice and there was no telling when he’d get back in time to hit a dry cleaner or his own wardrobe. It had been almost thrilling, almost freeing in a way. He could do and go anywhere he needed without any forethought to his clothing.

Now though the suit felt stifling. He was salaried in his new position which did essentially mean the organization owned him--in a sense--but his regular hours were supposed to be 7am to 5pm. During those hours he was in the suit, it was his uniform, required almost though no formal dress code had been given to him. When his days stretched--as they usually did--to 7 or even 8pm the uniform became… uncomfortable.

As he reached for his key card an old anxiety flared up. He could imagine the thick air, the tension and the forthcoming argument. It would start out simple enough but soon it would turn ugly: he was always late and it wasn’t fair. Was he not making an effort to get home on time on purpose? Did he need to stay away from his family? Surely his company would understand if he simply had to leave every once in a while. Had someone been in a life threatening emergency? No? Why couldn’t he have just left on time?!

He let out a slow breath, hands shaking a little as he attempted to open the door. A soft smile spread over his face as he closed and opened his eyes slowly. His long lashes casted shadows over his cheeks as he stepped inside the spacious hotel room.

There would be no argument and not because he was alone--because he was meeting with someone who understood. His wife had claimed, in the beginning, that she knew what she was getting into but the job had taken its toll. With Lupin it was different and Zenigata knew that from the start. The thief was punctual to a fault but that was his job, not his expectation for the world. He knew what Zenigata did--prior and currently--and it genuinely did not bother him when Zenigata had to cancel or postpone plans.

“Lupin,” Zenigata called as he stepped into the room, “sorry I’m so late.” It was habit. He knew Lupin had told him a million times to never apologize but he couldn’t just… not apologize. He hung up his long trench coat and set his hat down on the long table in the hallway.

“What’ve I told you about that?” Lupin called from somewhere deep within the room, his voice slightly muffled. Zenigata assumed he was in the kitchen.  
The inspector rubbed at the back of his neck, squinting his eyes closed.

“I-I uh… force of habit. I’m going to change and then I’ll come join you for desert,” he called towards the kitchen. When he’d texted Lupin hours ago to postpone their dinner plans, Lupin’s only requirement was that Zenigata save room for desert. The inspector had a rather embarrassing sweet tooth and so he was happy to oblige.

He swung open the bedroom door and froze.

“Oh uh, I think my idea of desert may differ from yours, Koichi,” Lupin nearly giggled, reclining nude on the large four poster bed.

Zenigata’s face burnt immediately fire red. He quickly slammed the door closed behind him and leaned up against it, as if trying to make sure no one else would walk in on such a display--even though the hotel was empty save himself and Lupin. He blinked furiously as Lupin sat up a bit more formally, grinning.

“Not too disappointed, are you?” Lupin slid to the end of the bed, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands like he wasn’t completely naked. “Though, I suppose I could grab some whipped cream if you’re hungry?”

Zenigata groaned and shook his head, walking into the room and trying desperately not to look at Lupin. As he walked past the bed and towards the large closet he heard the thief pout and giggle some more. He braced himself on the closet doorjamb and took a few deep breaths.

“Hey, you ok?” Lupin’s tone changed completely as he watched Zenigata try to gather himself.

“Y-yeah,” Zenigata said with a small blush, glancing over his shoulder, “don’t uh--don’t want to pass out.”

This caused Lupin to giggle again, almost coyly, hiding his face behind his hand as if the rest of him was not still completely exposed.

“Flatterer,” Lupin purred.

“I’m serious,” Zenigata paused, turning curiously to face the thief, “haven’t you ever uh… gotten too excited, too quickly and uh--” he clapped his hands together in mime. Lupin’s eyebrows lifted to his hairline.

“No,” he smirked, “that might be a medical problem unique to men of your station, pops.”

“Police officers?” Zenigata frowned.

“Mm mm,” Lupin shook his head and pointed at Zenigata, slowly lowering his finger until he was pointing between the man’s legs. He mimed taking a shot and Zenigata almost instinctively covered himself.

“Ahhh,” the inspector blushed anew and turned his face away, “I uh--I guess that makes sense.”

Lupin stood up and slowly approached the other man. Zenigata swallowed hard and took a small step back, pinning himself to the closet door. He frowned at Lupin’s increasing proximity. The whooshing of blood pumping hot in his ears increased as Lupin pressed a hand against his chest.

“We’ll just have to go slow then, huh?”

“Showing up… to you uh--naked--is the opposite of slow,” Zenigata said heavily, unsure of what to do with his hands.

“Maybe we level the playing field?” Lupin smirked up at the slightly taller man.

Zenigata nodded slowly and leaned in to kiss the other man. He could feel Lupin smiling against him as the thief brought them closer. The inspector closed his eyes and tilted his head back as he felt Lupin’s hands begin working at the buttons of his shirt. He cautiously moved his own hands to Lupin’s sides, hesitating slightly as his palms met bare flesh. 

Lupin smiled and leaned in to start kissing Zenigata’s throat. The cautious hands on his sides were adorable and he loved how tentative the inspector was. Even after years of chasing Lupin down and having more direct, aggressive physical contact than this, the other man was soft in his desire. Well, perhaps soft was the wrong word. Lupin shook free Zenigata’s tie and tossed it over his shoulder carelessly.

Zenigata sucked in a slow breath and tilted his head down to nuzzle against Lupin’s temple. The thief’s mouth now had free access to all of the inspector’s neck and it was warm and comfortable. Zenigata slid his hands up slightly and around to Lupin’s back, cupping near the other man’s shoulder blades and pressing him a little closer. He heard Lupin sigh against his collarbone and a shudder ran up his spine as deft fingers ran a line down his now exposed chest.

Lupin grinned as he parted Zenigata’s shirt, dragging his fingertips down until they met the belt of the other man’s pants. He pulled back slightly, looping his fingers under the belt, and kissing his way across Zenigata’s chin. He glanced up and waited until the other man met his gaze. Lupin lifted his eyebrows and tugged forward slightly, stepping back as he did so: Zenigata followed him like a dog on a leash. Lupin led them backwards slowly to the bed until he could reclaim a seat at the foot of it, tugging Zenigata closer all the while.

Zenigata let out a slow breath as he stopped before Lupin, their positions putting the other man’s head almost perfectly in front of the growing bulge in his pants. The inspector reached up and grabbed hold of the canopy over the bed to help brace himself, spreading his legs just a little as Lupin began working on his belt. He felt the heady rush of arousal and leaned into it just a little, just enough to enjoy the moment for once. 

Lupin glanced up curiously as Zenigata seemed to sway for a moment, but a smile played on the older man’s lips and the thief relaxed. So many men were in a hurry to increase the size of their package that he doubted any of them really considered what a true burden great size could be. He leaned forward and left a kiss just above the dark shadow of hair peeking out above Zenigata’s boxers. 

Zenigata gazed drunkenly down at Lupin though he knew fully well he was sober. The younger man just had that effect on him--always had, really. Lupin was a tall glass of fine wine that was best sipped slowly over the course of a long evening. The kiss made Zenigata’s cock twitch in his pants and he gripped the canopy railing a little tighter. As he continued watching Lupin slowly began pulling down his pants, boxers included, with the look of a child on Christmas morning.

“Y-you’re terrible,” Zenigata growled through gritted teeth.

“Who? Me?” Lupin asked innocently, pausing with the inspector’s remaining clothing at his thighs. He winked as he met Zenigata’s eyes, the shift permitting the inspector a glimpse of Lupin’s aching erection.

Zenigata reached down with one hand and caught Lupin’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. He did a strange--and probably not at all sexy--shimmy to slide his pants down further as he leaned in and forcibly kissed the thief. He freed his knees and knelt on the bed, pressing Lupin onto his back as he kicked off his clothing completely. He made sure to keep a great distance between their lower halves even as he pushed his chest against Lupin’s.

Lupin slid his hands up Zenigata’s arms to his shoulders and then upwards to the back of his neck. He massaged them there for a moment before pushing them up into the other man’s hair and scraping nails against scalp just enough to get across his mood. He appreciated that Zenigata was being so sweet and sensual but Lupin had been preparing for this all day--well, longer but he wasn’t about to tally the time--and he was eager to move things along. He shifted and managed to get his heels up onto the edge of the bed, bracing them against the almost non-existant footboard. It was just enough leverage.

Zenigata let out a shout as he was candidly flipped onto his back. He should have seen such a move coming from Lupin but the thief would always be at least half a step in front of him. It was thrilling and the inspector would have it no other way. As they flipped Zenigata’s hands found Lupin’s biceps and gripped tightly while Lupin’s hands had moved to his shoulders. It was a mockery of choke-holds they’d had on each other in the past and for a second as they grinned at one another the scenario almost didn’t matter.

“Sorry, pops,” Lupin smiled as he sat up, straddling Zenigata’s thighs, “I’m impatient.”

“You’re just like a child,” Zenigata huffed, cheeks red as he watched Lupin’s eyes fall to his cock. It twitched as the inspector tried not to think about it and Lupin’s small noise of awe only made matters worse.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little instant gratification,” Lupin provided, leaning forward in a very catlike position across Zenigata’s abdomen. He arched his back a little and draped an arm over Zenigata’s chest. He lowered his chin to rest on his own forearm, reaching behind himself with the other.

Zenigata glanced down as Lupin made himself comfortable over the inspector like a blanket. He’d pulled his hands away when Lupin sat up and was still not sure where to put them. For the moment Lupin seemed content to just lay on Zenigata and the older man really wasn’t clear on what he was supposed to be doing. He met Lupin’s gaze and found a strange expression there as the thief began shifting atop him just a little.

Lupin winced just slightly as his fingertips brushed the jeweled base of the plug he’d been wearing for hours. He tugged on it gently and bit down on his bottom lip, doing his damndest to maintain eye contact with Zenigata throughout. He watched as slowly the realization hit the older man and the inspector’s whole body went a little rigid. Lupin laughed and squinted his eyes closed at last. 

Zenigata suddenly found it hard to breathe. Part of him was caught up in just how lewd this whole thing was while the other was horrifically turned on by the idea. He knew he should become comfortable somewhere in the middle and so he tried desperately not to do anything to ruin the moment. He kept his eyes keenly trained on Lupin’s face as a series of expressions he prayed he’d get to see again crossed over features the inspector knew better than his own.

Lupin had always been expressive--one of his better qualities if he did say so himself--and so he made no move to hide anything he was feeling as he began slowly removing the plug. He let his eyebrows rise and clench together at the slight discomfort; his nose and eyes scrunch just a little at the pleasurable pull; his lips part to gasp just slightly and then grimace, debauched, as the plug popped free audibly.

“C-crap, Lupin,” Zenigata murmured, almost as breathless as the thief as Lupin tossed the plug to the floor. The younger man was red in the face and a little winded, but Zenigata knew that look on those impish features and knew there was much more in store than a hedonistic little show. 

As if to agree with him Lupin slowly sat up and pointed to the luxurious pillows just above Zenigata’s head.

“Can you,” Lupin started and the next few words were lost as the man shifted his weight and somehow his English became French, “--under that pillow?” Lupin finished in English.

Zenigata frowned but turned just a little and reached up under the pillow indicated. He hadn’t caught all of Lupin’s words but he’d gathered enough. His fingers quickly found what felt like a bottle of soap or shampoo. Confused but willing he retrieved the bottle and held it out as if to ask if that was the bottle Lupin meant--as if people regularly kept multiple bottles under their pillows. Lupin’s smile was positively angelic.

Lupin was familiar with the feeling of love--he lived in a constant state of first-date butterflies--but something about Zenigata in that moment doubled the emotion and the thief could hardly contain himself. He really wanted to just pin Zenigata down and pepper him with kisses until the other man suffocated… but he also very much wanted to fuck the inspector so he was at a bit of a war with himself. He took the bottle and grinned.

Zenigata pushed himself up onto his elbows as Lupin seemed to dedicate himself to a new task. The thief was still stradling Zenigata’s thighs, just below his erection, Lupin’s own cock just inches away from contact at any given second. The inspector knew Lupin was withholding on purpose and it was simultaneously frightening and intoxicating. Zenigata watched as Lupin opened the bottle and poured a very gracious amount of the oily liquid into his hand.

Lupin just could not keep a smirk off his face--so much so that his cheeks were beginning to ache. He set the bottle down for a second and rubbed his hands together, smearing the lube between them. He held his hands out directly over Zenigata’s cock and parted his palms to permit a few thin drips to fall onto the engorged organ. He heard the inspector gasp slightly, wriggling beneath him.

Zenigata struggled to maintain a calm--a composure--he wasn’t sure he would have for long. Lupin’s hands were soon all over his erection, rubbing the slick, sweet smelling lubricant from tip to base. The sudden gratuitous attention after the teasing made the touches like fire, quickly unraveling Zenigata. He flopped onto the bed, arms giving out on him, and bunched up his hands in the blankets. He tilted his head to watch Lupin continue stroking him, long, lavish strokes.

“Y-you tryin’ to kill me?” Zenigata whimpered. It was just enough to keep him firmly aroused and leaking but nowhere near enough to do anything more than that.

“Oh, boy,” Lupin laughed, “if this is bad just you wait.” 

Lupin kept one hand stroking Zenigata slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. The other he slipped between his own legs and heard Zenigata almost whine. The thief glanced up with dark eyes and met Zenigata’s gaze. It was Lupin’s turn to feel an unexpected thrill--the expression on the inspector’s face was hungry, almost predator. It seemed like things had finally clicked and worked themselves out in Zenigata’s mind. 

Zenigata reached out and gripped Lupin’s thighs, right above his knees, giving the other man room to move but passing along desperation with a tight grip. He studied the thief as Lupin’s cheeks flushed again and his lips parted slightly, all under his own ministrations. The inspector hoped he could garner the same reaction and the same emotion when it was his turn to pleasure the younger man. 

Lupin removed his hand once he was satisfied with the slick state of himself. He kept his hand around Zenigata’s cock but stilled his motions.

“I still have to take this pretty slow, all right?” Lupin warned, “so do your best to stay still until I give you the all clear.”

Zenigata nodded and tried to brace himself but honestly he had no idea what to expect. It had been years since he’d last had sex with anyone and even then it had been his wife and never--well… Nothing about what was about to take place did he have experience with. He trusted Lupin to guide them but it didn’t stop the swirling in his gut as Lupin moved into position.

Lupin carefully leaned forward onto his knees and stroked up Zenigata’s length a few more times. He used the opportunity to gently bump the head of the large cock against himself. The plug had certainly been wider but Zenigata was longer--it would still need some adjusting--and Lupin was worked up enough to be hungry for it. A slave to his own desires--most of the time--Lupin did not tease long before he lined Zenigata up and slowly began to sink down.

Zenigata knew six languages and considered himself fluent in four of them. However in that moment no words bubbled up to aid him. Not able to stay silent he could not stop a string of surprised ‘ahhh, ahhh’ in his dark baritone as Lupin consumated their relationship. As the head of his cock popped through the tight ring of muscle both men sighed in pleasure. Zenigata alternated between squeezing Lupin’s legs and balling his fists into the blankets around him as the thief began working his way down onto Zenigata’s length.

Lupin was accustomed and familiar with all kinds of sexual activities but even then something about this was unique. He bobbed himself on the cock below him, slipping a little further down each time but determined to make the first entry last as long as he could. This was Zenigata’s first time with another man and Lupin knew he would never get to experience his first again--he wanted it to be good. His breath hitched and it took him a second to find it as he slowly lowered himself down the last few inches and found nowhere else to go.

Zenigata whimpered and arched his back, body twitching like a man hooked up to a car battery. The sweet, sensual grip around his cock was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Lupin’s body practically purred around him, massaging and warming and the weight of the other man fully seated in his lap and the thought that Zenigata was buried completely within him--the inspector wondered if a man could orgasm from thought alone. He could feel Lupin staring at him and so he straightened up and focused very hard on opening his eyes.

“You still with me, pops?” Lupin whispered huskily, a tone Zenigata had never heard on him before.

“Y-yes,” Zenigata answered like a prayer, nodding, “God, yes.”

Lupin laughed breathlessly, cheeks full of color. He’d been with a number of partners before--many of them who did worship him a little--but Zenigata’s pure awe was something altogether new. The thief hadn’t been prepared to experience a first time of his own. He reached down and stroked himself once or twice, watching how his body’s clenching wound up Zenigata further.

“I’m gonna start moving now,” Lupin promised, shifting a little.

“Y-yeah,” Zenigata gulped. He quickly found he was unable to breathe as Lupin slid forward, releasing about half of Zenigata’s shaft before slipping back down. Again both men moaned in unison. Lupin repeated the motion twice more at the same speed, and then began rocking a little faster, curling and grinding his hips. Zenigata watched through the haze of white that was settling over his vision as Lupin’s strong legs worked over time to fuck himself with Zenigata’s cock.

Lupin was quickly losing himself to the act. Zenigata was just so damned big--all Lupin’s bravada and planning was shot through the window. He wasn’t really what Jigen had laughingly called a ‘size queen’ but he could definitely appreciate the act of being fucked senseless, size not-withstanding. Though he was doing most of the work he could not complain as he’d never really wanted to blow someone’s mind so completely before. He was not so much looking to climax himself--though he wasn’t about to deny himself that--but looking forward to watching Zenigata’s face as the other man came.

Zenigata felt like he was teetering on the edge of reality. On one side he was completely in tune with what was happening, keenly aware of each and every sensation. On the other side he was facing complete and total oblivion at the hands of his once rival--an utter unmaking of himself that he didn’t know he could survive. As he felt Lupin slid back down he thrust his hips up to meet him and felt his cock pulse hard. The action wrought a gasp and a noise from Lupin which clearly indicated the thief had not expected it… and it felt good.

Lupin winked an eye open slowly as Zenigata thrust into him again but he was no more prepared the second time. The action ripped a long ‘haaah’ from him and brought tears to his eyes. His vision became a bit blurry and too late did he recognize the look on Zenigata’s face--a look he’d known to mean the inspector had an ace up his sleeve. Before the thief could find it in him to vocalize any kind of query, Zenigata took the reigns. The inspector flipped Lupin onto his back, separating them and pinning the younger man to the bed fiercely.

Zenigata smiled down at Lupin and glanced between them where their cocks met. He left one hand firmly pinning Lupin’s left bicep to the bed but slid the other to his erection. Willingly Lupin bent his legs upwards in quite a display, making Zenigata’s pulse run hot. The inspector glanced up at Lupin and found the expression there not quite subservient but most assuredly wanting and Zenigata refused to disappoint. He took himself in hand and pressed up against the thief.

It had been quite some time since Lupin had felt like, well, a whore. Being so man-handled had riled him up well past where he usually kept himself and he was having a hard time not flailing around under Zenigata screaming affirmations. He permitted himself to be as vocal as he possibly could without going overboard as Zenigata penetrated him cautiously, but deeply. It was slow but Zenigata was not giving Lupin time to re-adjust; he was going full in to the hilt in one push.

Zenigata buried himself inside Lupin and his eyes fluttered closed to the sound of the thief’s pleasurable symphony. Once fully enveloped the inspector moved a hand to the back of Lupin’s knee and he pushed back, bending the man in a way he knew Lupin was capable of. He released Lupin’s bicep--noting with a pang of regret a large, angry red mark there--and cupped the thief’s chin in a delicate gesture. He leaned down to kiss Lupin as he found a good angle, wiggled his hips for purchase, and began thrusting.

Lupin was all desire, all want, all lust all the time and it was exhausting but this--this was magnificent. He was almost purring, almost sobbing from the thrill of being legitimately fucked by Zenigata Koichi. Sure he’d been on the receiving end from Jigen, Goemon--and Fujiko that one time--but this was different. Zenigata wanted Lupin in a way the others didn’t. Monogamy had never been among Lupin’s considerations but damnit if there wasn’t something to the idea of this being his, and only his, for the foreseeable future.

Zenigata wasn’t sure what was working faster: his hips or his mouth. He somehow got stuck in a cycle of kissing Lupin as he thrust and he couldn’t stop. Sloppy kisses didn’t even meet Lupin’s mouth half the time and the inspector could not get a handle on himself. It was some kind of strange, prolonged climax and he couldn’t stop the overflowing of affection even though he’d not yet hit that sweet spot of the after glow--he hadn’t even cum yet! He shifted, pulled Lupin a little closer, thrust again and the thief shouted--a full bodied shout.

“A-ah are you… did I hurt you?” Zenigata gasped, somehow managing to find the resolve to stop his hips and his kisses long enough to check in.

Lupin immediately snapped his hands up and sandwiched Zenigata’s face between his palms. He met the inspector’s eyes with a deadly intensity.

“Do. That. Again.” Lupin demanded, voice falling into a whimper as Zenigata nodded.

It had taken Lupin and Jigen a long time to figure out how to properly hit Lupin’s prostate--not quite as long with Goemon but it had still required ample communication--and yet somehow Zenigata managed to pound against it their first time together. Lupin supposed maybe there was a benefit to having a large cock--and it was the last coherent thought he had before the inspector repeated his thrust and Lupin’s vision was stars. His arms fell to the bed and he cried out, wrapping his legs in a vice around Zenigata and rolling his hips.

Zenigata almost stopped as Lupin sobbed--it certainly sounded like pain. However as he glanced down at the other man he saw an expression which clearly said the opposite. Lupin’s expression actually stated, quite clearly, that Zenigata was about to give him an orgasm. Zenigata himself was about to send Lupin the Third, legendary thief and lover, into sexual climax. The inspector puffed up a little and began thrusting faster, keeping an eye on Lupin’s expression as the sounds were incredibly misleading.

Lupin was being undone and he hadn’t seen it coming. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined Zenigata could unmake him like this. All threads of coherent thought were gone and he found himself writhing like a cat in heat beneath the inspector, tears in his eyes and a painful crescendo coming at him like a freight train. He shouted again and launched upwards to almost sit in Zenigata’s lap, wrapping his hands tightly around the back of the inspector’s neck and pressing their foreheads together.

“F-fuck, Koichi,” Lupin sobbed trying to kiss the other man and failing miserably. 

Zenigata almost forgot what was going on as he watched Lupin nearly crumble in front of him. He had never been treated like this before--never been so desperately needed before--that it almost caused his system to go into a hard reboot. Lupin was curled so tightly around him he wasn’t sure he could keep up the thrusting that was driving the thief wild. He squeezed his hand between them and took hold of Lupin’s cock, the action making the thief tighten and spasm around Zenigata’s erection.

“Aahh,” Zenigata closed his eyes and tried to maintain himself, “A-arsene.” 

There it was--the name he’d never spoken, the final step over the threshold of whatever it was they were doing. Lupin’s first name so alien and strange and yet intimate and powerful. Zenigata did not have time to wonder if it made Lupin feel the way Zenigata did when the younger man called him Koichi--because just the sound of his name on Zenigata’s lips had the thief cumming.

Every inch of Lupin coiled and tightened and then sprung, releasing like a built up dam given freedom. His whole body turned to liquid, the fire coarsing through his muscles softening from a raging inferno to a cozy Christmas roast. He spasmed and jerked, thoroughly coating Zenigata’s hand as he collapsed back onto the bed in bliss. He tried to convince his lungs he needed to breathe but his body seemed content to simply die.

Zenigata was once more in awe of Lupin. The thief never did anything half-ass and certainly that was no regular orgasm. Zenigata himself had to try very hard and bite things back as the spasms from within Lupin massaged his cock so desperately he’d almost cum himself. He could still feel the other man’s body writhing and pulsing around him, warm and pliant and wet. He didn’t want to pull Lupin back down to reality and out of the state he’d put the thief in, but he couldn’t hold on much longer.

“L-lupin,” Zenigata said, mouth running dry after a second, “I--I need…”

Lupin slowly opened his eyes and smiled up at Zenigata. He nodded and shifted a little, wiggling his hips to take in the bit of Zenigata that had slipped free during his explosive climax. He dug his heels gently into the inspector’s rump and nodded.

“G-go ahead, Koichi,” Lupin’s words were slurred, “anything you want.”

Zenigata kissed Lupin immediately, passionately and accurately--very unlike his sloppy displays earlier. He tangled a hand into the other man’s hair and gripped a wiggling hip in the other. He broke the kiss to gasp and moan, nuzzling his head under Lupin’s chin. A lewd thought crossed his mind and it was thrilling--damnit he was about to cum inside Lupin the Third. Was it wrong to imagine marking Lupin like an animal? Was it bad that he was imagining everyone able to tell from this one, raunchy act that Lupin belonged to Zenigata? 

Lupin winced a little, wrapping his arms over Zenigata’s back as the other man’s thrusts became shallow and lightning quick. His body was still rather oversensitive but he was able to wiggle enough to keep the angle away from his sorely abused prostate. He focused on the feeling of Zenigata’s mouth parted above his collarbone, gasping for breath as the inspector’s hips canted. Zenigata groaned and made a baritone keening as he came, pumping and throbbing within Lupin.

Zenigata was beginning to understand why so many men were obsessed with sex. It had to be that he’d never had good sex before because what he’d just done was amazing and it blew everything else he’d ever experienced clear away. As he tried to resist collapsing his full weight onto Lupin--everything in a blurry, dizzy fog that was completely delicious--another though struck him. He was actually relieved it struck him then so forcefully as any other time--with more of his cognitive facilities functioning--he was sure the thought would have sent him in a spiral of emotions he did not want to remember existed just then.

“A-arsene,” Zenigata mumbled distortedly against Lupin’s throat.

“Y-yeah?” Lupin replied, just as love drunk and high.

“I’m… I’m very gay,” Zenigata muttered.

“Congratulations, pops,” Lupin sighed happily.


End file.
